


Music To My Eyes

by twoshipstiedup



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Brief Mention of Suicide, Brief homophobic slur, But a happy ending!, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Movie AU, Romance, alcohol and brief mention of drug use, closeting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 06:25:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16279385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoshipstiedup/pseuds/twoshipstiedup
Summary: A closeted actor and a struggling musician meet one night.They fall in love.A Star is Born AU





	Music To My Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a Star is Born and it ruined me. This is a very loosely based story on it that has some of the movie through it and also thankfully features a happy ending. Enjoy.

 

Silence.

The silence was always deafening. And welcome. Always welcome after hours of face splitting smiles and people screaming his name.

The silence of his empty home though was a different story.

He pinched his nose, leaning back against the smooth leather seats with a heavy sigh.

“Where to?”

Louis knows that Oli knew the answer.

Anywhere but home.

“Umm, let’s go to Silverlake,”

He didn’t have to add ‘its less conspicuous’. Louis and his driver Oli had been mates since they were in primary, and had worked for him since he made his big acting break when he was eighteen. And because he had known him that long, he knew that a drink in the back corner of an unknown bar was exactly how he needed to end his night of being world famous, Oscar nominated, _straight_ , actor Louis Tomlinson.

And he hated every moment of it.

Well, maybe not every moment, there were some highlights, like the two shiny gold men that hung out in his kitchen, judging him on the fact that he had one that was state of the art and the only thing he ever made in it was tea.

The first Oscar came at twenty three, a role that critics said he could never pull off after his years prior being dedicated to teen comedies. The movie was based on the story of a young student who had become the sole guardian to a family of four when their mother passed away, and people really had no idea how much practice he actually had for that role. He never shared much of his personal life, only what his publicist and agent made up for the press. If memory serves, he was fake dating Jennifer Love at that time.

The second Oscar came at twenty-eight, a bit of a lucky number of his, but the irony of the win was his portrayal of a closeted gay man in love with his best friend, only to end up committing suicide when their families find out and disown them. Yes, that one, it hit close to home. Not that he was in love with Oli, never on god’s green earth, but he was familiar with dark thoughts and the even darker shadow of the closet.

He agreed to his charade when he had first started out, of course not knowing any better. Whoever did in this industry? However, when the first whispers of heartthrob sounded out and the soaring fame that came with it, he knew that he would have to keep it up for a while. He just didn’t realize that a while would mean twelve years.

At this point he didn’t fight his team anymore. He accepted the beards in stride, hell he was even nice to them now. He had made a choice after his first real award. His agent offered him an out, and he had wanted the big shiny career instead. He made his bed; he had to lie in it.

Except that the bed had grown hard and uncomfortable.

There had been flings over the years, many that happened in the bathrooms of seedy bars with strangers who couldn’t remember his name, but no one who had stuck around for more than a couple of weeks. They wanted to tell everyone they knew that they were shagging a Hollywood golden boy, and Louis wanted to do nothing but drown his sorrows in long neck bottles and clouds of smoke. It was too hard and frankly after so much time had passed, he was scared about what people would think. He felt like a fool.

The only time he didn’t feel like one was when he was with his mate Liam Payne, a singer songwriter who he befriended in the early stages of his career when he had done a song for one of the sillier movies under his belt. They immediately clicked and during one very long and boring summer, Louis had joined him in his Malibu studio while he recorded his second album and that was where they learned that Louis had a real knack for songwriting.

Though maybe he was being a little too modest considering he had a handful of Grammy’s sitting right next to the little gold dudes that nobody knew about. Songwriting was the one thing that was his own, where he could fully express himself without judgement and pour out all of the feelings that had no other home. The only people who knew that he wrote were Liam and his agent, and even though Liam felt bad every time he had to accept an award alone, they always celebrated thoroughly after the fact, no matter how long it took them to get together.

He smiled to himself as the soft notes of one of their more recent hits played on the radio. There were very few things that made him happy these days, but that would always be one of them. It felt a thousand times more fulfilling than seeing himself up on giant screen.

“We’re here, Lou,”

The buzz of the crowd outside the SUV and the glow of the neon blazing through his window pried him out of his daydreams. He shook out of his custom fitted suit jacket, trading for the worn in jean jacket that Oli passed over from the front seat. Luckily he had decided to go a bit more casual for this premiere, so the only other item he had to forgo were his dress shoes, stuffing his bare feet into the ancient checkerboard Vans he had left in the backseat.

He grabbed onto the door handle, feeling his heart rate speed up. “I won’t be longer than an hour,”

Oli gave a shrug, his attention already back to his phone. “All good, take your time. Paul said he’ll be by shortly, just in case there’s trouble.”

He stepped down from the truck and blew out a shaky breath. There were more people around than there usually were, which made him nervous. He really didn’t feel like fighting with his publicist tonight. He hasn’t been caught before, not really, mostly because Jenny was frighteningly good at her job.

Grabbing the beanie that was stuffed in his pocket, he shoved it down on his once immaculate fringe in an effort to seem slightly more incognito, but judging from the way the girl manning the door was silently laughing at him, he realized he was making himself even more obvious.

Louis knew the owners and most of the staff by now, but he had never seen this petite, sleek blonde with the smattering of freckles before. Her eyes widened as he approached, waving in the handful of people in line so they were alone, which he thought was an effort she made for him. He immediately liked her.

“Louis Tomlinson,”

He puffed out a laugh. “Dammit, and here I thought the beanie was a great disguise.”

She bit her lip, darting her eyes back inside. “What are you doing here?”

He laughed again, this time hearing the nerves break through. They had already been out here too long. “I’m a bit of a regular I guess. I know Franny and Dave quite well,”

She finally lit up, understanding the language he was speaking. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m an idiot. I just started a week ago, I didn’t know there were celebrity regulars,”

Louis cringed inwardly at the word celebrity. “I honestly couldn’t tell you if there were either. I mean I’m a regular but not a ‘regular’. I work a lot and—

She placed a tentative hand on the back of his shoulder to usher him in, tone apologetic, “Really you do not need to explain yourself, I was rude to even ask, shit I hope I don’t get fired,”

“I won’t get you fired, I promise.”

By now they were at the front bar and Louis could finally slide himself onto one of the shitty wooden stools and have the bottle of tequila that had been calling his name for the last hour. He turned to the blonde who was now wringing her hands, putting a calming hand on her wrist. “Love, it’s really okay.”

“Oh, thank god,” she turned her hand to the side, offering it to him. “I’m Perrie by the way. It’s so nice to meet you,”

He shook it with a genuine smile, signaling for a drink, “And you as well.”

She looked him over, seemingly questioning his outfit. “How was the premiere?” He raised his eyebrows, lips quirked in a teasing smile. “I, you know, keep up with this stuff.”

He took a sip of his drink, letting the liquid warm his insides. He shrugged, crunching down on an ice cube. “To be honest, it wasn’t my favorite film to make. But, so it goes,”

She blinked at him, not knowing how to respond to his slightly arrogant response, which he had absolutely not meant that way. “Well, that’s a shame.” He laughed again. He really liked her. “We have a great night lined up, some live music, oh actually there’s Harry now,”

Louis twisted around to face the stage, only seeing the outline of someone sitting with their legs crossed in a chair.

“Harry’s new as well, I think he’s been here about a month? He has such an amazing voice though. You’re going to love him.”

When the first few notes came onto the sound system and the spotlight hit his face, Louis felt like the entire world had stopped spinning.

“There are worse things I could do, than go with a boy or two,”

Louis was frozen in his seat. First of all, his favorite movie was Grease; that was probably the only consistent thing he has ever said in interviews over the years. Number two, this boy that was singing the part of Rizzo was the most beautiful he had ever laid eyes on.

He had high peachy cheekbones, full, lush lips, a mound of curls piled on top of his head in a makeshift bun, and his long lanky body was poured into a similar dress to the one Rizzo wore in this iconic scene.

Louis was mesmerized as he sauntered around the stage singing about staying home every night and waiting around for mister right, when their eyes locked from across the room. He winked and Louis felt like he was back in footie camp all over again, taking a ball to the gut multiple times while his friends laughed at him.

Except the only person laughing right now was Perrie as Harry crawled his way across the bar to her. He rolled over onto his back, dramatically singing out the last two lines.

“But to cry in front of you…” he slowly turned his head towards Louis, green eyes sparkling along with the disco lights. He took a breath as Louis held his own. “That’s the worst thing I could do.”

He eased himself up to his feet and took a bow, grabbing the hand of one of the bartenders to help him back down. Louis could do nothing but stare at him, mouth dropped wide open.

Perrie popped her head in front of him, a wide smile spread across her face. “So, that’s Harry,”

“Yeah.”

She seemed very amused by his speechlessness, grabbing onto his hand to pull him up, “Come meet him,”

“Yeah…wait, what?”

He tried holding onto the bar with as much resistance as he could, but all five foot three of her was insanely stronger than she looked. Suddenly he was being ushered into a backstage area draped in sparkly streamers and glitter. She pushed him over to the mirror where Harry was wiping his face down with a cloth.

“Harry, I want you to meet someone,”

He glanced up at them in the mirror and tossed the cloth to the side, quickly scrubbing a hand over his face before turning around to face them. “Louis Tomlinson. I thought that was you, but I also thought, how could that be,”

Louis smiled down at his shoes, his heart thumping loud in his chest. “It can and it is.” He held a hand out, “Nice to meet you Harry, you were incredible out there.”

Their fingers touched and they both flushed. “Thanks, you too,” Harry let go slowly, blushing down at his hands now. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“No really, people say thank you to me all the time and I have no idea what for so I say thank you as well and it’s a whole big thing,”

Harry was looking at him again now, tongue sticking out between his teeth when he smiled and Louis almost clutched at his heart. Shit. “Okay. I’m glad you liked it.”

Louis shook his head, correcting him, “Loved. I loved it,”

Harry’s smile turned a bit cocky, fiddling with a ring on his index finger. “It’s your favorite movie, right?” Louis rolled his eyes, which caused Harry’s eyebrow to draw up in a challenge. “Tell me I’m wrong,”

He laughed, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You know you’re not.”

Harry crossed his arms over the top of his chair, resting his chin on them. “I bet you everyone out there has seen one of your movies,”

Louis shrugged, pinching a piece of lint in between his fingers. “I don’t really think about that.”

“Why not? You’re Louis Tomlinson.”

Louis scrunched up his nose, “S’weird, you know? When you’re famous, everyone says your full name,” he moved his fingers into air quotes, “Louis Tomlinson.”  He shook his head.

Harry sat back up, worrying on his bottom lip. “Oh, sorry—

“No, no I’m sorry, I’m being weird—

Harry laughed, and it was lovely. “Is this like the thank you thing?”

“It sadly is.” Louis glanced behind him, noting that Perrie and everyone else were long gone while they had been lost in their world of bantering. He looked back at Harry, a bashful smile on his face. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Harry glanced down at his clothes, “I have to uh, change, and my hair is a mess,”

“I’ll wait.”

Louis would probably wait forever for him.

“Okay. Sure.”

 

>>> 

 

Harry watched Louis leave the backroom and looked at himself in the mirror, eyes scanning over his face to make certain he was in his own body.

“What the hell just happened?”

He fumbled around in his bag searching for his phone, flicking his eyes towards the door again while he keyed in his security code and pressed dial on the first contact. He jiggled his leg while it rang repeatedly, finally shouting down the line when he heard it picked up.

“NIALL!”

“Jesus, H what, why are you yelling?”

Harry started to pace the tiny space, tripping over a pair of six inch patent heels. He bit down on his thumbnail, chewing distractedly. “Louis Tomlinson is here,”

“Shit, really? I always wondered about him, but he’s always dating high profile women? I guess that could be a front though, it probably is, is he—

“Niall, shut up and listen! He asked me for drinks!”

“Harry, are you fucking me?”

“Never, in any sense of the word,”

He could almost hear Niall sit down to take it all in. He sat down again as well, back to nervously bouncing his leg up and down. “Man, I can’t believe we’ve been here for three years and you’re going to fuck a celebrity, honestly I thought it’d be me first,”

“Niallll, I can’t fuck him.”

“Why?”

“Because, he allegedly has a girlfriend remember,” Harry hunched over, quieting his voice. “But he is bloody gorgeous in real life.”

“Okay, then fuck him! You need to get over this whole meeting the man of your dreams and falling in love thing for at least tonight,”

“Rude.”

“Harry, do not fall in love with Louis Tomlinson.”

“I won’t.” He traced a finger over his chest. “Cross my heart—

“Don’t finish that because I don’t believe you.” Harry huffed into the phone. “Anyways, wear something cute, oh that pink polka dot shirt, guys love that one, and you know what to do with the rest,”

Harry’s heart warmed. “Thanks big guy. I’ll call you later.”

“Tell him I’ll fuck him up if he hurts you.”

“Goodbye, Niall.”

 

>>> 

 

Louis waited at the bar for him, perking up when he saw him peek out of the makeshift gold curtain of streamers. He noted that Harry’s hair was even more luscious when it was down, a large portion of it dragged over to one side of his head hanging in glossy spirals. His cheeks matched the oversized pink polka dot button down he had paired with black skinnies and scuffed up suede boots. He took Louis’ breath away for the second time in over an hour.

He walked over to Louis, ignoring the cheeky eyebrows from Perrie and a couple other servers, stopping with his hands clasped in front on him. “Hi,”

“Hey. You look great.”

His lips quirked up. “Thank you.” He watched Louis hop down off the stool, curious, “Where are we headed?”

Louis touched his fingers to his elbow, soft and barely there. “Curly, I’m going show you where we lonely actors go to drown our sorrows,”

“Sounds depressing,” Harry quipped.

“It is.”

…

“Two Coronas, Nick,”

Louis threw a couple bills onto the bar, turning to face Harry’s intrigued eyes. “Who would have thought this place even existed,”

“It’s mainly a cop bar, which means they’re open all night, but a lot of us actor type folk skulk around here because we’re mostly left alone.”

Harry hummed, drawing his eyes over Louis’ face. He reached for his beer and took a long pull. Louis couldn’t rip his eyes away from the bobbing of his Adams apple if his life had depended on it. “So, you really did like the show?”

“Seriously, Harry, you were amazing,” Louis leaned over the bar, picking a coaster off the pile and grabbed the pen sitting beside the cash register. “Here, sign this,”

Harry took the pen, eyebrows drawn in confusion. “What am I signing?”

“Your autograph,”

Harry scoffed, pushing the pen and coaster towards Louis, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Louis pushed them back, “I’m not! How dumb am I going to look when you’re famous one day and I didn’t get your autograph? Now’s my chance.”

Harry looked at him wearily, tapping the pen against his thigh. “I feel like you’re pulling my leg,”

“I mean how would you know? I’m _such_ a great actor,” Louis smirked.

Harry answered him with a snort, shaking his head as he scrawled a loopy signature on the coaster. He slid it over to Louis with an exaggerated sigh. “I can’t believe I’m giving Louis Tomlinson my autograph.”

Louis groaned, slumping his forehead into his palm, “Uh oh, the full name is out,”

Harry flicked him in the shoulder, “Shut up, Louis.”

“See? So much better.”

Louis’ willpower was at an all-time high right now because he wanted nothing more than to run his hands all over Harry, meanwhile Harry didn’t seem to have any problem reaching out to give him the faintest touches that were surely going to kill him. He tapped a finger on Louis’ thigh now, a shy smile playing on his glossy lips. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course,”

Harry glanced at him one more time with that smile, before laughing into his beer, “You were my first real crush.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Harry sputtered, clearly embarrassed by his admission, side eyeing Louis with another sip on his almost empty bottle. “Yeah, I was like thirteen? And I saw you in that Romeo and Juliet TV show and you know, I had the big gay ‘aha’ moment,” he flicked his eyes at Louis again, picking at the label of his beer that was bonded into the bottle. “I’m sorry if that was weird.”

Louis took a couple of deep inward breaths that he learnt in the anger management course that he had to take after throwing a director’s chair at well, his director. It was a bad week for him. In a year of many. “No, it’s not…it’s…it’s nice.”

Harry hummed, the wheels clearly turning to form his question. “What’s it like dating Taylor Swift?”

Louis grimaced, holding his hand up for another drink. “Umm…” Fuck. He had forgotten all about that in the midst of his Harry lust. She was his fauxmance of the moment; they were both mutually doing each other a favor after he wrote her a hit song. She was tired of the press hounding her and Louis was just tired.

It was easy for the time being, and they didn’t despise each other like some of the other ladies of Louis’ past. Essentially they only ever saw each other’s name together in headlines and he wanted to tell Harry as much. For the first time in a long time he wanted to be honest, because Harry deserved it.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I asked that. It’s none of my business.” He handed Louis’ beer over to him, quickly changing the subject. “What’s it like being Louis Tomlinson?”

Louis reached out and pushed him. He could not resist this time. “There we are with the full names again,”

Harry held his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry,”

“Please stop apologizing,”

Harry sighed, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. Louis had to wonder if he had some Canadian roots, he was that put out by not being able to say sorry. “Where’d you grow up?”

“Doncaster,”

A broad smile covered his face at that. “Cool. I’m from Holmes Chapel myself,”

Louis leaned into the bar, eyes curiously roaming Harry’s face. “How’d you end up here?’

His cheeks flushed, not in a shy way, but one that said he was a bit embarrassed. “Same as anyone I guess,” he shrugged, picking his imaginary label again. A nervous tick Louis supposed. “Chasing the dream,”

Louis schooled his face into his best serious expression. “What’s your dream?”

A laugh tittered on Harry’s lips, eyebrow quirked. “Did you just purposely quote Pretty Woman?”

Louis grinned. “Maybe,” he paused waiting for the rest of the answer he had yet to receive. “So, what is it?”

“Musician.” Harry was back to looking small and slightly embarrassed. Louis would do anything in his power to make him beam again. “I auditioned for X-Factor once,” he mused. “I was sixteen. I made it to boot camp, but I got cut. I did American Idol and the Voice here too, but never made it past the first round.” He smiled faintly, beer tipped to his lips. “Now I just sing at the club,”

Louis could feel the anger seething inside of him. “Harry, fuck those shows, you are bloody talented,”

He blushed and this time it was shy. Louis wanted to paint the sky in his beautiful colors. “You’re sweet. Thank you.”

“I’m not being sweet, I—

“Hey, aren’t you Taylor Swift’s boyfriend?”

Louis turned in his seat only to be blinded by a camera flash that had him blinking and rubbing at his eyes.

“Wouldn’t TMZ like to know that you’re out on a date with some fag,”

“What the fuck?”

He heard the crunch of bone as his blurred vision cleared up and saw Harry go to grab the guy again, but his security guard Paul stepped in first, grabbing the guy by the collar and confiscating his phone.

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist, hauling him backwards out of the bar and stuffed him into the waiting SUV, banging on the center console for Oli to get moving. He knew that Paul would handle the mess inside, as this was not his first rodeo.

“Oli, stop at the closest gas station, we need to get ice,”

Harry reached out to next to him, placing a hand on his arm. “Louis, honestly I’m fine,”

“No, you’re not.”

Louis wasn’t sure if _he_ was fine.

Five minutes later they pulled into an eerily quiet lot, with Louis jumping out of the truck and yanking the store door open without a glance at the cashier, “Ice?”

He pointed to the back and Louis stomped over the freezer, pulling out a bag that was much bigger than necessary and contemplated how he was going to do this. His eyes snapped over to a box of Ziploc bags, which he grabbed along with a bag of flaming hot Cheetos and two packs of smokes.

Harry was sitting on the curb outside of the truck when he came back out. Louis threw Oli his snack through the open window, Harry’s head popping up from the commotion. He had been scrunching his hand in and out of a fist, and looked mortified when he saw the bag of ice.  

“You really don’t have to do this,”

“Yeah, I do.”

Louis stretched the top open and shook out a handful of cubes, slipping them in the Ziploc before sitting down next to Harry. He took his hand in his own, gently setting the cold package onto his reddening knuckles.

“Does that happen to you a lot?”

“No, I don’t go around punching people on a daily basis, Louis,”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Harry peered up from where he was fixated on their hands, his eyes soft and slightly sad. Louis felt the word floating around in his stomach, making him feel like he was going to be sick.

“Oh…no, not, really, I think he was just drunk and hyped up.”

Louis felt his blood start to boil again. He needed to shove a couple of these ice cubes into his eyeballs. “A pink shirt shouldn’t get anyone that hyped up,”

Harry chuckled at that. “Truthfully I was more pissed about him wanting to call TMZ. They’re the worst.”

Louis had to laugh too. “I can’t argue there.”

His hands no longer had control it seemed, because suddenly he was stroking a thumb against Harry’s cheek.

“You’re beautiful.”

Harry stilled, looking at him curiously. “Am I?”

“Yeah.”

Harry started to hum along to the song faintly playing in the background. Louis strained to hear it, and then Harry began to sing along to the second verse, his voice gruff and broken from the late night.

“Dark jeans and your Nike's, look at you, oh damn never seen that color blue, just think of the fun things we could do, cause I like you,"

Louis willed his heart to slow down, feeling the hot gaze of Harry’s intense stare. “Is that about you?”

“I wrote it.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up, his hand slipping away from Louis’. “What?”

Louis took in a deep breath. He had a choice here. Liam was one of the only two people who knew about the songs. Only a handful of people knew that he was gay and in the closet. But here at 2am, under a flickering street lamp in an empty gas station parking lot, Louis wanted Harry to know everything.

“I guess I’ve been songwriting for as long as I can remember, I was always writing ideas down anywhere I could when I was a kid. I’m not a singer by any means, but I love making music and I love hearing people sing my music. So, that’s what I do,”

Harry’s mouth gaped open as he started to list off a bunch of popular songs. He smacked Louis in the shoulder, “Louis, those are hit records! You have Grammy’s!”

“I guess I do,”

Harry was still wide eyed and exasperated. “So why don’t you use your name?”

“I have a job,” he shrugged.

Harry rolled his eyes, bumping his shoulder. “You can have more than one job you know. I’ve had like four at the same time,”

Louis frowned at that. If he could change that right now for Harry and not have it be the weirdest thing besides him writing songs about himself for Taylor Swift, then he would.

Truthfully Louis didn’t tell anyone about the songs for the same reasons he wrote them. He writes because sometimes he hates himself.  He writes because sometimes he hates the world. He writes because he wants to fall in love. He writes because he’s scared to. He writes because he wants to stop pretending. He writes because he doesn’t know how.

But Harry, beautiful Harry, was looking at him right now like he wrote the stars. So he doesn’t say any of that to him. Because he wants Harry to think that he did.

“Acting takes up so much of my time already, I’m happy enough hearing my songs on the radio.”

He watched as Harry unfolded himself to his feet, slouching slightly in front of him. His voice was humming yet another melody, but one he hadn’t heard before.

Then he started to sing.

"You’re a mystery, I have traveled the world, there’s no other guy like you, no one, what’s your history? Do you have a tendency to lead some people on? Cause I heard you do, mmm,"

If Louis’ heart didn’t feel like it was going to beat out of his chest before, he was certain it was going to now. “Did you just write that about me?”

Harry nodded down at his feet, tucking a curl behind his ear. “Yours was better though,”

“I promise you it’s not.”

He started to pace in a circle, tapping a finger on his chin before facing Louis again, the moonlight illuminating him like he was from some other world.

"So don’t call me baby, unless you mean it. Don’t tell me you need me, if you don’t believe it. So let me know the truth, before I dive right into you."

“Holy shit.”

He sat down with an embarrassed flush on his cheeks, pushing at the melting ice on his makeshift ice pack.

“Harry, what the fuck? You are insanely talented, you know that right?”

He shrugged it off, fixated on the drip drip drip coming from a hole in the bag. “I’m not. I was inspired.”

Louis swallowed. He was coming up to choice number two here. Harry peered over at him again, watching him intently. Was it possible he felt it too? That magnetic pull between them? That it wasn’t just words in a song?

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Course,”

Louis nodded to himself. Here went nothing. “I’m gay,” Harry waited patiently, searching his eyes, knowing there was so much more he had to say. “I’ve just never…the whole coming out thing… I, I don’t know, so that’s why…Taylor, you know, and the others,”

Harry’s voice was so so quiet. “Oh.”

“And I’m, uh, I’m okay with it, I guess, you know…” he pointed to his chest, dragging Harry’s eyes to the small piece of tattoo poking out from his t-shirt. “It is what it is.”

Harry looked like he had a million questions running through his mind. He settled on one. “Can I see you again?”

Louis felt the shock tremor through his body. “You want to see me again?”

“Um, yes?”

“Oh. Alright.”

They were both blushing like the fools they were, forgetting that they were both grown adults. Louis traced his fingertips over the top of his good hand. “Are you free later?”

Harry breathed in a smile, biting it down as if not to appear over eager. “I can be.”

“Great! I have some things I need to take care of, but I’ll send a car for you. I really want you to meet Liam,”

Harry wavered, eyes widening. “Liam…Liam Payne? Like the songwriter, the singer. Liam. Payne.”

Louis chuckled, feeling a twinge of jealously. _Technically_ he was half of songwriter Liam. “That’s the one.”

“What…why?”

Louis stood up, offering his hand down to pull Harry up by his good one. “You’ll see. It’ll be fun.”

Harry reluctantly took it, tugging himself up to face Louis. “Is this night really happening?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same thing.”

Harry smiled at that, shrugging his shoulders forward shivering against the brisk fall wind. “I’m afraid if I go to sleep it will all be dream.”

Louis was afraid of the same thing.

“Let’s get you home, Curly.”

 

>>> 

 

The ride back was cloaked in silence, but a comfortable one. It usually would have bothered Harry, he was a chatty person by nature, some would even go as far to say nosy, but there was something about Louis that made him calm and quiet.

He snuck a few glances at Louis only to find that he was doing the same. He bit his lip and smiled at his reflection in the window, noticing that the truck had come to a stop outside of his apartment building. He turned back to Louis, nervously playing with the ends of one of the curls brushing his collarbone. “This is me,”

Louis leaned to his side, pursing his lips with a nod. “Nice. It looks similar to the first place I lived when I moved out here.”

Harry cast his eyes down with an awkward laugh, “I bet the whole building could fit into your mansion now,”

“I don’t live in a mansion.”

“Oh, I—Harry met his eyes when Louis reached out to squeeze his knee.

“I’ll show you later.”

_Oh._

At least Harry thinks that’s what that oh means.

He reached for the door, offering Louis one last smile. “Thanks Louis.”

“You are the most welcome.”

Harry stepped down to the sidewalk, blinking up at the cloudy sky, a hint of sun creeping up on the horizon. He supposed he spent the night with Louis after all. He took a step forward, patting down his pockets to make sure he had his phone and keys, when he heard the sound of a window buzzing down behind him.

“Hey,”

Harry turned on his heel, eyebrow quirked. “What?”

Louis grinned, tapping the side of the truck with his palm. “Nothing. I just wanted to take another look at you.”

Harry watched the truck speed off, mouth hanging open.

…

Niall wasn’t home when Harry got in having stayed at his girlfriend’s house instead. Harry also knew that he had to work that night, so he wouldn’t get a chance to see him and relay his truly insane night back to him. All he could offer was a simple text telling him that he was right about Louis and not to say anything, he knows that he would never, he would trust Niall with his life, he basically did, and that he was seeing Louis again.

Harry was seeing Louis again. _Holy shit_.

He placed a hand on his chest, lowering himself onto the beat up leather couch in their living room. It was four in the morning and Harry had just hung out with Louis Tomlinson, full name, for hours, and now he wanted to Harry to meet Liam Payne.

He swung his legs up and pulled one of the many crocheted blankets his mother had sent with them down and spread it over his legs. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to sleep. He wanted to feel fresh and well rested for, well, what? Hanging out with hit songwriters? Recording a song? What song? What was he going sing? Louis wrote songs, would it be one of his? Louis wrote songs!

His eyes popped open again. He ran a hand down his face, groaning into his palm.

“What the hell is going on?”

…

Harry stared at the door of the studio they had just knocked on, swallowing the lump of nerves that were stuck in the back of his throat.

The black SUV had been back for him at noon as per a simple text from Louis, which he had been relived about. Sleep had not come easily, and he had given up around nine o clock in the morning, forgoing it for a run to clear his head. When he got back to the apartment he spent another hour tearing his hair out trying to decide what to wear.

He settled on casual because it wasn’t a date. It was business, or at least that’s what he thought it was going to be, so his reliable black skinnies and a long sleeved semi sheer white knit sweater would have to do. His hair actually did look like he had been trying to rip it out, so he quickly styled it so that it looked reasonably tame.

By the time Oli finally knocked on his door, his palms were sweaty and his hair had descended into chaos again. He was mostly silent on the ride, but once they hit the highway his curiosity had gotten the best of him.

“Where is the studio? Louis didn’t mention it,”

“It’s in Malibu.”

“Okay.” Harry sat back in his seat, watching the steady waves of the ocean pass them by.

“Louis said that your friend Niall could come if you wanted, I can pick him up after I drop you off,”

“Oh, uh, thanks, but he’s working.” Harry was startled at that. He had only briefly mentioned Niall’s name, but Louis had thought it important enough to Harry to remember.

“No problem. Louis said you can have whatever you want, so just let me know if you need anything on the way.”

“I’m fine, thank you though.”

Harry wasn’t fine at all.

And now, here he was, stood outside of the door of a music studio hidden away in the Malibu hills, a studio that countless famous musicians had recorded at. Harry was about to surround himself in that essence. It was a lot to say the least.  

Oli knocked on the door again with a little more punch behind it. “Lou? Harry’s here,”

The door finally swung open and Harry was hit with Louis and that bright, crinkly eyed smile he had always seen in movies, which was now being directed at him.

“Harry, you made it!”

“I’m here.” He drew his eyes over Louis, taking in every inch of him. “You look—

Louis swallowed, looking at him with the same kind of revelry. “So do you.”

And he did. Louis looked soft and relaxed in fitted Adidas joggers and a loose white t-shirt. His feet were bare and his beard was scratchy and lived in, his hair tucked under a dark blue beanie that only brought out his eyes even more so in the hazy afternoon sun, and Harry was sure he had never seen anything more ethereal in his lifetime.

He was so taken that he didn’t even notice Liam watching them from his piano with his eyebrows raised, or the fact that Oli had disappeared again. After a minute more of them stupidly staring at each other, Liam finally cleared his throat.

Louis physically startled, shaking his head. “Sorry, sorry, come in,” he waved Harry inside, guiding him towards Liam with a warm hand settled on the small of Harry’s back. “Liam Payne, meet Harry Styles,”

Liam swung around on the piano bench, standing up to grasp Harry’s hand. “Hey, how are you? Amazing bloody song by the way, I thought Louis was having me over when he called me at seven this morning to record some music,”

Harry shook his hand slowly, “I’m good, I’m a huge fan,” he moved his head back and forth between the two of them, “Amazing song?”

Louis tucked his hands into his pockets, dragging a toe over the fringe of the carpet under their feet. “I couldn’t get that song out of my head, so I kind of did a rough arrangement and got Liam to sing it. Did you want to hear it?”

Harry blinked, probably close to a hundred times. He pointed at his chest. “MY song? The one I literally made up last night?”

“Yes.”

Harry’s eyes bugged out of his head, “How…”

Liam grinned, patting a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “Louis has quite the musical ear. He only needs to hear something once.”

Louis pulled over a chair, offering it to Harry. “Sit down and listen.” Harry did what he was told, and instantly felt a calm pour over him when Louis came to stand behind him, his hands gently settling on his shoulders.

Harry steepled his fingers in front of his lips, nodding along to the beat, this was his _fucking_ song. He looked back at Louis who was grinning from ear to ear. “It’s a fucking smash, Harry,”

Liam nodded, turning it off after the last note faded out. “I think so too. Do you think you could record it for us?”

Harry balked. “You want me to sing it? But it already sounds great with you singing on it,”

“Nah, that was just a rough cut so we could work the music out. I want to hear your voice on it.”

Louis squeezed his shoulders encouragingly, “Trust him, Liam sometimes knows what he’s talking about.”

Harry nervously flicked his eyes towards the mic booth. “I’ve never sung in one of those before,”

“Liam will help you out, and I’ll be here too,” Louis leaned down, nose tickling the side of Harry’s face when he whispered low in his ear, “You’re so talented Harry. You’ve got this.”

Harry swore that he felt the brush of Louis’ lips after, but maybe it was all in his head.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

…

It took them a few of hours to get the final recording perfected, and Harry had never felt more alive in his entire life. They all enjoyed the process in working with each other, fucking around on the various instruments Liam had set up around the room and laughing at how bad they were at playing some of them.

Louis had wandered off shortly after they had finished, promising to be back with a couple of cold beers for their efforts. Harry sat at the piano, playing a melody that had been stuck in his head for the past couple of hours. Well around twelve if he were being honest. Ever since he had laid eyes on Louis in the bar.

Liam sat down next to him, playing on the other end, matching up the notes with a pause. “You like him,”

Harry glanced over at him, trying to read his eyes. “Yeah, I do. He’s great.”

Liam nodded, clasping his hands together in his lap. “Are you out?”

Harry’s scratched a finger on the side of his nose, confused by the question. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve always been?”

Liam nodded again, more cautiously this time. “And you know that he isn’t out,”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, he told me.” He didn’t think they should be talking about this without Louis there. He looked over at Liam again. “He said he was okay with it,”

“Of course he did.” Harry frowned down at his lap. Liam placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it briefly. “You seem nice Harry, just, I guess, think about what you’d be getting into,” Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Liam stopped him. “I love Louis like a brother and I want him to be happy. From the short time that we’ve spent together, I can tell that you would protect his heart. Just make sure you remember to protect yours too.” He pat him on the back, easing up from the bench, stretching his arms over his head. “You’re crazy talented though, would you be interested in coming back tomorrow to record again?”

Harry’s head was spinning at the quick change in subject. He needed a lot more time than three seconds to process it all.

“Absolutely. Thank you.”

Though he wasn’t sure which part he was thanking him for.

 

>>> 

 

Louis plucked three beers out of the fridge, popping the tops off onto the marble counter top. He heard the pad of footsteps behind him, turning around with a smile.

“Oh, hey Li,”

Hopefully Liam didn’t hear the slight disappointment in his greeting.

“Hey, just seeing what the holdup was. Did you get ahold of Ed?”

“Yeah, he’s stoked,” he passed Liam a bottle, cocking an eyebrow at him. He could always tell when Liam was slightly vexed. “What’s up?”

Liam spread his hands on the counter, leaning into it. “Harry’s fucking amazing,”

“I told you he was.”

“Louis…”

He looked at Liam, mouth turning down. “What?”

“He’s gonna be huge,”

Louis looked into his beer, trying to find solace in the golden liquid for the tone that this conversation was taking. “I know.”

“Louis, look at me,”

He begrudgingly looked into Liam’s all-knowing eyes. “Did you say something to him?”

“Nothing that I wouldn’t say to anyone we were about to take under our wing,” Liam chuckled, taking a drag of his beer, “Except you know, that you’re head over heels for him. So, a bit of a different conversation than the usual,”

Louis frowned. “Right.”

Liam sighed, moving around the counter to stand next to him. “He’s twenty four Louis,”

“And?”

“Do you expect him to be closeted too?”

Louis shook his head furiously, “No, of course not, I wouldn’t do that to him.”

Liam spread his hands, shaking his head. “So how’s this going to work?”

“I can’t decide that for the both of us, Liam. All I know is that I want him, I want _something_ with him. I’ve never felt like this before, about anybody,” he absently placed a hand against his chest, like it was physically hurting him to have this pour out. “I want to make him happy, and I want to make him a star. He deserves that.”

“What are you going to tell Kelsey and Jenny?”

“Nothing until I talk to Harry, I don’t even know what he wants.”

Liam smiled faintly, pinching Louis’ cheek. “I think I have a pretty good idea.” Louis swatted his hand away, but his eyes turned serious again. “Seriously Lou, be careful okay? Take it one step at a time.”

“Yeah I will. Thanks Payno.”

Louis knew that Liam was only doing this out of love, if anyone knew exactly how much Louis had been suffering over the years, it was him.

He grabbed the beer that had been sweating out on the counter, nodding over his shoulder.

“I’m going to go find Harry and tell him the news. I think he’s going to need this,”

“You might want to take the bottle of Julio too.”

…

Harry took the beer out of his hand, offering him a smile. “Thank you.”

“Ed Sheeran has your song.”

Harry promptly choked on the sip he had just taken. “ _What?_ ”

Louis already loved this too much. “Ed. He has the song. He loves it,”

Harry stumbled back into the armchair tucked into the corner of the studio, falling back with a whoosh of air. Louis quickly grabbed the beer out of his hand, placing it on top of the piano. He watched as Harry clutched his head in his hands, shaking his head back and forth.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,”

“Are you okay?”

Harry paused his mantra, glaring up at Louis, “No, I’m not okay, I’m freaking the fuck out!”

Louis was terribly endeared. “He wants you to sing it with him,”

“WHAT?”

He walked over to Harry’s stiff figure, crouching down in front of him. “He’s playing at the Greek tonight, he wants to sing it and he wants you to sing it with him.”

Harry looked as though all the life had drained out of him. “Louis, I can’t sing with Ed Sheeran,”

“Why not?”

Harry comically shook his hands out in front of himself, like Louis just did not get it, “Because he’s Ed Sheeran!”

Louis grabbed onto his hands, pressing a soft kiss to the tops of them. “And you’re Harry Styles. If anyone has a name fit for being a rock star, it’s you.”

“Louis,” Harry said weakly.

“ _Harry_ ,” Louis settled himself on his knees, so that he was face to face with Harry. He reached out with his thumb, smoothing it into the worry lines creased across his forehead. “You’re amazing, fucking incredible, and I believe in you. I’ll be there cheering you on. You can do this.”

Harry searched his eyes. “How do you have so much faith in me? You don’t even know me.”

“I feel like I do.”

Harry’s face softened. He leaned his forehead against Louis’ own. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know. But for now I’ll take whatever I can get, it's up to you.”

Harry blew out a shaky breath, sliding a hand up to Louis’ neck. “Okay, then I know what i want,”

“What's that?”

Harry leaned in, sliding his tongue over his lips, pausing at Louis’ ear. “Put your hands on me Louis.”

Louis’ hands were shaking as he moved them up from where they hung at his sides. He paused on Harry’s thighs, before Harry gave a little nod that it was okay. He nodded back and slowly felt his way up the rough material of his jeans and squeezed. Fuck, he was touching Harry. He reveled in the way his muscles jumped when he slipped his fingers up the sides of his shirt, caressing the plush skin on his hips.

He leaned forward as Harry fell back against the chair and there in the fading sunlight, his lips met Harry’s and he hummed into his mouth, feeling the warmth spread throughout his veins with every flick of his tongue.

Louis wanted to crawl inside of him and touch every piece of his soul because now that he had a taste of Harry there was no turning back.

And for the first time in a long time, Louis felt nothing but peace.

 

>>> 

 

Harry slammed the door, leaning against it with a dopey look in his eyes. Louis kissed him. He kissed Louis. They kissed each other.

And it was perfect.

He glanced down and saw Niall’s shoes, then suddenly remembered that he had more pressing things to stress about.

“Niall!!!”

He ran down the hallway to their living room and thankfully found his best friend stuffing a box of noodles into his mouth with a questioning look. “Why are you always yelling at me?”

“I thought you had to work?”

“I do, so you have like five minutes to tell me what the fuck is happening,”

Harry scrubbed a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots. “Niall. Ed Sheeran!!! Ed fucking Sheeran!!”

He placed his noodle box on the coffee table, chewing and swallowing slowly. "Fucks sake, please tell me he isn’t trending on twitter, that’s never a good thing these days.”

“He wants me to sing with him at the Greek tonight,”

Niall jumped up from the couch, getting to Harry at lightning speed. “What the fuck?!? How? What? How?!”

“Louis. He recorded my song and sent it to him.”

Niall snorted, kicking his out at his shin. “You make it sound so nonchalant,”

Harry moved them over to the couch, flopping down with a sigh. “Niall I don’t think you understand. It’s Ed Sheeran. Like, Ed Sheeran, _the_ Ed Sheeran.”

He nodded, drumming his fingers on the creamy pale skin of his thigh. “I heard if you say his name three times he shows up in the mirror and sings you a love song,”

Harry flicked him on the nose, “Shut up, this is serious, I have to sing with him, like for real for real. On a stage.”

Niall looked at him thoughtfully. “It is pretty impressive that Louis wrangled all this together in a day,”

“He is impressive. I mean he’s hot _and_ he has a musical memory.”

Niall sighed, shaking his head. “Harry, I would be careful you know, I know you like him, but—

Harry picked at a hole in the knee of his jeans, pulling it an inch wider. “Why does everyone keep telling me that, I can make my own decisions you know,”

“Who’s everybody?”

“Liam Payne.”

Niall whistled. “Well aren’t you A list status already,”

“Very funny.”

Niall’s face turned serious, which was rare, so Harry knew that he meant business. “He’s in the closet Harry,”

Harry sat up straight. “You can’t tell anyone that,”

“I would never do that, but…you’re not,” he placed a hand on top of the one wrecking his jeans. “Are you willing to run around in secret with him? That takes a toll on people, H.”

Harry furrowed his brow, back to stretching the hole further. “How would you know?”

Niall waved a hand at their muted TV, which was ironically playing TMZ in the background. “Look at this shite, it’s literally everyone in Hollywood, I don’t think Louis is immune. All these stories can’t be made up out of nothing. And from the looks of the tabloids, it kind of seems like he has a drinking problem,”

Harry shrugged. “We don’t know that. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he’s just unhappy.”

Niall’s face darkened as he grabbed his hand again. “Harry, that isn’t a burden you can put on yourself. You can’t be with someone to make them happy.”

He drew his hand away, running it through his hair. “It’s not about that Niall, I promise. It’s about the fact that I can already feel him banging on the walls of my heart. He’s coursing through my veins, he’s all I see when I close my eyes,”

“Jesus, write a song about it why don’t you.”

Harry sighed, slapping a hand over his face. “I did, and now I have to sing it with Ed fucking Sheeran.”

Niall laughed at that. “This has got to the be strangest 24 hours of your life,”

“It’s right up there with the accidental threesome.”

“H, you were the requested guest star and you stayed all weekend, but go off I guess.”

Harry stuck his tongue out. “Shut up.”

Niall reached over to pull him into a hug, muffling into his neck. “Seriously Harry, I love you and I _will_ give him a good old fashioned Irish shit kicking if he does anything to you. I promised Anne I would take care of you when we moved out here.”

“Thanks Niall, I love you too.”

He pulled back, holding onto Harry’s arms with that serious look back. “And please don’t embarrass yourself with Ed, we can’t afford to move back home yet.”

 

>>> 

 

Louis rubbed his hands together, pacing around the backstage area. He had sent Oli to get Harry about an hour ago, and every minute that passed where he didn’t see that head of curls was one that was slowly killing every single nerve in his body. What if he didn’t show up? What if Louis fucked everything up by kissing him? What if Harry didn’t want this at all?

But then he looked up and saw that lovely smile and tumbling mass of hair coming towards him.

“Holy shit, I’m backstage!”

Louis wanted to grab him and kiss him until his knees were weak. Instead he stepped into his space, touching a finger against collar of the silky white leopard print shirt he was wearing, gazing up at him. “You look like you belong here already,”

Harry blushed, twisting the rings on his fingers, “I hope so.”

Liam wandered over, now with Ed in tow, waving a hand at Harry. “Ed, I want you to meet the man of the hour, Harry Styles,”

Louis didn’t think Harry could blush any harder. But he wanted to see if he could make it happen himself, in a very different, bedroom like setting. “Wow, Ed, it’s so good to meet you. This is so cool, so like, thank you,”

Louis laughed, patting Harry on the back, “This one loves to say thank you.” He then realized that was kind of boyfriend move, or at least he thinks it was. He took a step back, letting Ed take over the conversation.

“No problem, mate, thanks for letting me sing such a brilliant tune. I can’t believe it’s your first one,”

Harry laughed, “Well, the first one anyone has ever heard.”

“You only need one, mate.”

Liam nudged Louis with his elbow, “Ready?”

He nodded. “Yeah, just let me talk to Harry for a sec,”

He waited until him and Ed were done chatting, and pointed over to an empty dressing room indicating for Harry to follow.

They stepped inside and Louis eased the door closed, though not shutting it all the way. Harry’s eyes followed him as he paced back and forth, debating with himself in his mind on what he was going to do next.

“Louis, come here,”

That was all the encouragement he needed.

He walked over to Harry, and stood in front of him, tucking his hands in the pockets of his jacket so he wouldn’t reach out to touch him. He’d have to use his words instead. “Take it all in and savor this moment, because it's only going to go up from here. People are going to know you Harry, you're going to rule that stage one day,”

Harry bit his lip, shaking his head down at his feet. “We’ll see.”

“No, Harry. I know,” he took one step closer, titling his head so his lips were inches from Harry’s. “Come home with me after.”

Harry swallowed, breathing out a whisper. “Why,”

“You know why, Harry.”

“I want you to say it.”

Louis leaned up on his toes, brushing his lips against the side of Harry’s. “Because I want to make love to you.”

He stepped back, squeezing Harry’s hand before turning away.

“Now go smash it, love.”

…

Louis didn’t think he had ever smiled more than in this moment. Harry was on stage playing the guitar right next to Ed Sheeran sounding like a fucking angel, and everyone was in love with him.

Exactly how Louis had predicted.

He felt a movement beside him, glancing over at the intruding body. “Oh, hey Jeff,”

Jeff Azoff and Louis had never been fond of each other, but he put up with him because Liam had a lot of dealings with him and the itch under his skin told him that he already knew exactly what he wanted right now.

“What do you know about this guy?”

“Harry?”

If Jeff was annoyed by Louis he didn’t show it. Yet. “Yeah, Liam said that you found him singing in a club?”

“Yep.”

Jeff eyed him up, but didn’t comment. “So he’s not signed to anyone?”

Louis wanted to continue being an asshole, but one thing he would not do is fuck up Harry’s future. He shook his head, “No, not yet. He’s got it, Jeff. You should snag him up while you can.”

He nodded in agreement. “I have an idea on where we can go with him. He’s going to record with Liam?”

“Yeah, they’re getting together again tomorrow.”

Jeff pat him on the back, handing over his card, as if Louis didn’t already have a stack that were taking up dust in his office. “Great, tell Liam to get me a copy of this song and another single by the end of the month, and I’ll see what kind of offer I can come up with.”

Harry was racing down the side of the stage now, running back to the clutch at Liam’s awaiting arms, “That was fucking awesome!”

“You were fucking awesome, Harry!”

Jeff watched with interest before walking over with his hand held out. “Harry, I’m Jeff Azoff. I’m not only interested in signing you, but I’m going to. I’ve got big plans for you,”

Harry stood there in a daze, searching his eyes for Louis’. He nodded holding up Jeff’s card. “All true and confirmed.”

“Uh, okay, like, what, umm what do I do now?”

Jeff shrilled out his evil little laugh, thumbing back at Louis, “I passed along the instructions to Louis. I’m excited to hear what you and Liam come up with. I gotta run, but I’ll see you soon Harry.”

Harry watched him wander off, mumbling a soft ‘thanks’ under his breath. Liam jumped up and down excitedly, bringing him back to life. “Harry, we’re gonna make a hit record!”

He flushed, eyes meeting Louis’ again. “How do you know it will be a hit?”

“Excuse me, but it’s kind of what we do,”

Louis rolled his eyes, clapping Liam on the back. “It’s what you do, remember. Just you,”

He got an eye roll in return. “Whatever, I’ll see you again tomorrow then Harry? Noon okay?”

“Yes, of course, I can’t wait.”

“Cool.” He looked at Louis again, eyes quiet and knowing. “Have a good night then, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Louis looked expectantly at Harry. “Did you want to stick around for the after party, or—

“No.”

“Okay, I’ll tell Oli to pull around back so you can sneak out. I’ll catch up with you guys down the road.”

And so it begins.

Louis ignored the gnawing worry in his stomach. This was Harry’ big night and he was going to make him know it.

 

>>> 

 

Harry glanced at Louis when they pulled into the driveway, a look of surprise on his face. “This is so nice, Louis. Very naturery. I guess I didn’t expect this,”

“Did you really think I lived in some monstrosity in Beverly Hills?”

Harry looked at him sheepishly. “Actually, yes.”

Louis reached across the backseat, shoving him playfully. “Harry, I’m hurt,”

He bit his lip with a giggle. “Sorry.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute, you know,” he slid forward, leaning onto the console between the front seats, “Thanks for the ride.”

“No prob.”

They hopped out of the trunk, Harry following Louis down the cement walkway that was sheathed in tropical foliage. “Do you not like to drive?”

Louis shrugged indifferently, unlocking the front door. “Not really. I used to get myself into more trouble than not in my younger days. Better to be safe than having your mugshot in the papers,”

“Ah.” Hmph. So there Niall. He was at least a responsible drunk.

Louis clicked on the light in the entryway and Harry let out a soft gasp. When he took in the room he could have kicked himself for assuming that Louis lived in an oversized, cold mausoleum. 

The bungalow was cozy and warm just like Louis, with plush oversized couches and shelves upon shelves of books and records, with various awards scattered throughout; all done in rich chestnuts and honey colored beiges with soft powder blue throws and cushions tossed in for a splash of color.

“I love it.”

He thinks he could hear the smile in Louis’ voice when he came up beside him. “Me too.”

Louis shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it onto a handmade wooden chair with a buttery leather cushion. He sat down on the couch closest to Harry, arching an eyebrow, “Can I get you a drink?”

Harry shook his head. He didn’t want a drink. He wanted Louis. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Just down that hall, first door on the left.”

Harry gave a small nod, “I’ll be right back.” He spun around and headed down the hallway, opening the first door and felt around for the light switch. He shut the door softly behind him and leaned his hands against the marbled sink, blowing his hair out of his face.

He looked a bit of a mess if he were being honest, but that wasn’t anything a little nudity couldn’t fix. He splashed some water on his face, patting it dry with the softest hand towel he had ever felt in his life.

He pointed at himself in the mirror, shoulders set square and determined. “Don’t come too soon and don’t tell him how many times you came looking at him as a teenager.”

Right.

He unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulders, hanging it on the empty hook behind the door. He popped the button of his jeans next, shimmying them down his hips with a grunt. They really were too tight sometimes. He stood there and snapped the elastic of his briefs, contemplating.

“Fuck it.”

He pulled those down as well, folding them up and stacking them on top of his jeans. He rolled his shoulders and neck, pouting out his lips. This was as good as it was going to get.

“Okay.”

He pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway, padding back towards the illuminated living room. Louis was hunched forward on the couch, elbows on his knees, typing away on his phone, not noticing that Harry was swaying on the landing. He glanced up and the phone fell to the ground with a loud thud.

“Holy…”

Harry took that as his good to go signal and sauntered over to the couch, sliding a knee on each side of Louis’ lap. He lowered himself down with a smile. “Hello.”

Louis looked at a loss on where to put his hands, so Harry took them in his, gently placing them on his hips at first, then inching them back around to cover his ass.

“Tell me what you want, Louis.”

He snapped his head up from where he had been locked in a trance by Harry’s hands. He squeezed his fingers into his cheeks, and Harry let out the tiniest moan from that one simple touch. He needed more.

Louis licked his lips, boring his eyes into Harry’s. “I want you just like this, seated in my lap, gasping my name, fuck you can even say the whole damn thing if you want because I don’t think I have ever seen a view this beautiful in my whole life,”

He slid his fingers down the small of Harry’s back, brushing them down between the smooth skin of his cheeks, pressing down. Harry’s breath hitched. “I want to spread you out on this couch with your thighs wrapped around my head while I slide my tongue so deep inside you, you’d think I was looking for the holy grail, and maybe I am Harry, maybe it’s you,”

Harry shifted in closer, cock stiff and needing attention, bumping into Louis’ stomach, causing his own breath to hitch. “I want to make love to you for hours under the stars, learning every inch of you, and I want to remember what you sound like when you come, so I can having it running on a loop in the back of my mind for months.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, thrusting himself into Louis’ stomach again. “That better not have been a monologue from one of your movies,”

Louis shook with laughter, dropping his head against Harry’s shoulder, “Way to ruin the moment, Harry.”

He bounced in Louis’ lap impatiently, “I swear I loved it, but I really want you to fuck me right now,”

Louis stilled his hips, drawing a wet line with his tongue up Harry’s neck. “Make love. I want to make love to you.”

Harry huffed, pouting his lips out. “Can’t we do both?”

Louis nodded. “Yeah baby. I’ve got nothing but time,” he gently smacked a palm on Harry’s ass, with a smirk on his lips and a glint in his eyes.

“Turn around.”

…

They collapsed onto Louis’ bed in a fit of giggles, rolling onto their backs. Harry had never laughed so much during sex before, or maybe he never had.

He loved it.

Louis reached out for his hand, linking their fingers together. Harry rolled his head to the side, sharing his smile. Louis poked a finger in his dimple with his free hand, smile deepening. “You totally wanked to me when you were a kid, didn’t you,”

Harry tried to roll away, but Louis gripped their hands pulling him back in. “You did!”

“Shut up!”

Louis shrugged, bringing their clasped hands up to his mouth, pressing his lips to the tips of Harry’s fingers. “Whatever, I’m totally going to wank to you now rock star, so we’re even.”

Harry pressed his lips together, trying to suppress his smile. He sighed closing his eyes. He felt his arm jiggle a minute later. “Hey, I’m not done yet,” He popped one lid open, assessing how serious Louis was. He nodded his head, “Get up here, Styles.”

“Get up where?”

Louis pointed to his mouth. “Come and suffocate me with that beautiful behind,”

Harry slapped a hand over his face, a deep red flush blooming on his chest. “Oh my god, Louis,”

“Fine, what about get that ass on my face, I just want a taste?”

Harry grabbed a pillow from behind him and threw it at him. Louis bat it away, yanking Harry on top of him.

Harry smiled down at him. “Will you stop?”

“Not until my ode to your ass is complete.”

Harry pushed up off his chest, sitting back on his hunches. “On second thought I think I will get up there so I can shut you up,”

Louis flopped back against the pillows with a satisfied smile. “Excellent. I can write the rest of it in my head, I’m great at multitasking.”

Harry crawled up to his chest, pecking a kiss to his lips. “You’re not really going to write a song about having sex with me are you?”

“I can’t make promises I won’t keep, love.”

…

When Harry woke up in the morning he was alone. He turned on his side to see that it was seven am and that Louis had left a steaming mug of tea on the bedside table for him and a hand written note.

Harry reached out for the paper, scanning it over once before rolling over to his side, shaking with laughter.

“He really did it.”

 

No Control by Louis Tomlinson for Harry Styles

 

‘Taste on my tongue

I don’t want to wash away the night before

And the heat where you laid

I could stay right here and burn in it all day

 

‘Waking up

Beside you I’m a loaded gun

I can’t contain this anymore

I’m all yours I’ve got no control

No control

 

>>> 

 

Liam groaned, leaning his head against the piano, throwing his pen to the ground. “You two are ridiculous, you know that?”

Louis sighed into Harry’s mouth, tugging his bottom lip with his teeth. “We’re almost done, I swear,”

He knew that wasn’t the truth though.

Louis hadn’t attempted to do anything in the past two weeks except Harry. And he wasn’t anywhere near being done. They had spent the days holed up in his house, getting off on every surface of it and when they weren’t there, they were here in the studio trying to come up with the next single. They had not gotten off on every surface here, but there were a lot of them. Mostly the studio chair they had come to know as their own, which they were currently occupying, Louis with a lap full of Harry again. He had no complaints.

Liam had many though.

“Seriously, now that Ed has ‘Dive’, we really need to come up with something good here boys. We only have two more weeks,”

Harry had earned his very first writing credits, deciding to opt on giving Ed his first song and starting out fresh for his first single.

Liam turned his pleading eyes to Niall, “I know we just met but help me out here,”

He picked up a guitar and plucked on the strings, plunking down in the chair next to Liam. “Honestly they could be fucking in that corner for all I care, I can’t believe I’m in a music studio with Liam Payne.”

Louis rolled his eyes and grabbed a fistful of Harry’s shirt, pulling him in for another kiss. “Can’t help that you look especially delectable today,”  
  
Harry rubbed their noses together, laughing into his mouth, “Who says delectable?”

“This guy,”  
  
“This guy right here?” Harry kissed him again, slow and lazy, running his fingers through the sides of Louis’ hair. Every touch from Harry always made the world drop away, so the only thing left was the two of them. He was the moth to Harry’s flame and he couldn’t get enough.  
  
Louis hummed into his mouth, “We’re on fire, we are on fire, we’re on fire now,”

Harry pulled back, eyebrows knit together. “What was that? Say it again?”  
  
Louis rapped his fingers against Harry’s spine, thinking of a melody. “I think it would go something like ‘da da da ah da da da ah we’re on fire now’”  
  
Harry bobbed his head along. “Yeah I hear it,”  
  
‘Finally’ Liam mumbled behind him. He tapped on the piano keys, sounding out a tune that was similar to what Louis was hearing. “Like this?”  
  
Louis nodded excitedly, “Yeah yeah, play it just like that,” he poked Harry in the stomach, “Now you sing it”.  
  
Harry closed his eyes, mouthing the words, searching for something more. “Oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh we’re on fire now,”  
  
“We’re on fire now,” Liam sang along in the background.  
  
Harry shook his head, biting on his thumbnail. “Hold on, hold on. I’m thinking of a chorus like,” he flicked his eyes at Louis, “I don’t care what people say when we’re together,”  
  
“You certainly don’t care about them being in the room,” Niall clucked, strumming along with the guitar.  
  
Harry closed his eyes again, scrunching them in concentration. “You know I wanna be the one to hold you in your sleep,”  
  
Louis tickled his sides with a laugh, “Says the little spoon.”  
  
Harry stifled a giggle, slapping his hands away. “Shut up.” His eyes remained closed for a moment longer, and then he opened them, staring straight into what felt like Louis’ soul. “I just want it to be you and I forever,”  
  
Liam tapped out few more notes singing, “Da da da da da baby be with me so happily.”  
  
Louis grabbed Harry’s hands, grinning like a loon. “I think that’s your song,”  
  
Harry stared back at him in shock. “I can’t believe we just did that.”  
  
Niall placed the guitar back in the holster, folding his arms against his chest with a smirk. “I can’t believe you wrote a song in Louis’ lap, is this how you guys usually work?”  
  
Louis pat the side of Harry’s leg, “Nah Calvin Harris weighs a bit more than Harry, we try to keep this to a minimum.”  
  
Harry’s lips pouted, a frown creasing over his face. “Heeeyyy,”  
  
Niall snorted, grabbing his coat off the chair. “Maybe the first part of the song should be about how jealous Harry can get,”  
  
They all turned their heads to look at him. He shrugged, “Just a thought. Good luck, thanks for the invite!"  
  
Liam grabbed his pen again, scribbling in his notebook, “He may be onto something.”  
  
Louis fit his hands around Harry’s waist, lifting him to his feet as he stood up. “Okay now that you have some real work to do, I’m going to leave you guys to it. I’ll be outside checking some emails.”  
  
Harry pecked him on the lips, whispering quietly, “Thank you.”  
  
“It’s all you Harry.”  
  
...  
  
Louis sat on the grass out back smoking the one cigarette he allowed himself a week. He frowned down at his phone, looking at the email sitting in his inbox.

It was a script his agent Kelsey wanted him to read, one he promised her he would after dropping the Harry bombshell. She had paced back and forth so much in one spot Louis thought the carpet was going to need to be replaced after.

Between her and his publicist they had decided he needed to be extra discreet and maybe lay low for a while, let the Taylor thing fizzle out and figure out exactly what he wanted to do. They were finally leaving it up to him, because even they knew that secret relationships had an expiration date, one way or another.  
  
But in exchange he had to consider taking a role in this movie, one that would be shooting in Russia for three months in January. Louis already knew his answer would be no.  
  
He clicked on the next email, which was from someone at HBO. He glossed over it, seeing that it was asking if he had any interest in an original series that was in the early stages of development. Shooting next June, and to contact them within the next month or so. Hmm. That could be something.  
  
He picked up his phone again, this time dialing his sister.  
  
“Hey stranger,”  
  
He could feel her smile through the phone. “Lou! To what do I owe the honour?”  
  
“What I can’t just call my sister for no reason?”   
  
“You haven’t called me on the phone in months. We’re a texting family, we all know this.”  
  
He picked at a blade of grass with a laugh, “Yeah, I guess we are. How’s things?”  
  
“Oh good, you know, never a dull moment with all us kids. It’s like keeping up with the Kardashian’s, Doncaster edition. You’ve seen the hundreds of pictures in the group chat, I’m sure.” She paused, easy tone changing. “Is everything okay, Lou?”  
  
He took in a deep breath. “I met someone, Lottie.”  
  
“Oh, like, is it serious?”  
  
He nodded to himself. “I think so. I mean yes. I want it to be,”  
  
“That’s great Lou, really. You’ve never—  
  
“I know.”  
  
“So what are you going to do?”  
  
“I don’t know. I’m taking a break right now, trying to figure it all out. What to do next.”  
  
She laughed down the line. “TMZ is going to say you’re washed up,”  
  
“Maybe I am.”  
  
She snorted. “Yeah an _actor_ in his thirties washed up. Not in this lifetime,” she paused again, reflective. “Are you going to come out?”  
  
Louis’ chest seized up just hearing the words. He rubbed his fingers into his eyes. “I don’t know. It feels stupid at this point,”  
  
“Lou, it’s not, you have to know that. It’s about you being happy. For _you_. Mum would want you to be happy,”  
  
Louis sucked in a breath, “Yeah. She would.”  
  
“Well you don’t need to decide today, but we have your back. Who is it by the way?”  
  
“He’s a singer, he was at Ed’s show a couple of weeks ago,”  
  
“Oh my god, I saw that! Lou, he’s so hot, good for you.”  
  
Louis laughed. “Thanks. He is definitely easy on the eyes.”  
  
“Do you think he’s worth it?”  
  
Louis looked to where Harry had stepped out onto the porch, waving at him with a grin. He immediately craved his touch even though he’d only last had it less than an hour ago.  
  
“I think he’s everything.”

  
  
>>>

 

Harry craned his neck back, basking in the unseasonably warm December sun.  
  
“God I love this backyard,”  
  
Harry was more or less living with Louis now, with all the hours they spent at the studio together it had only made sense for Harry to stay with him instead of going all the way back to West Hollywood.  
  
Plus, he had a pool.  
  
He also had to admit it was getting harder and harder to leave him since they had become attached at the hip. It made his heart race and stutter all at the same time. He was in love with Louis; he knew that almost from the first moment they met. But he didn’t know where he stood with Louis. He was so guarded, and though he was happy with their arrangement now, would he be in the long run? Could Harry do this in the long run?  
  
Then, when Louis stepped out onto the patio, swim trunks low on his hips, looking at Harry like he could devour him, all those thoughts fell away. Sometimes he thought Louis was like the sun, he was so bright and warm and Harry wanted to feel that on his skin forever.  
  
“You only love this backyard because you can be naked back here,”  
  
Harry peered down at Louis over his glasses, “I don’t see you complaining.”  
  
Louis sat on the edge of his lounger, clasping his fingers around Harry’s ankle. “You should always be naked, in my opinion.”  
  
Harry hummed happily at that. He noticed that Louis had the radio on, which was rare since he was notoriously playing records around the clock.  
  
“What’s with the radio?”  
  
His question was interrupted when he heard the announcer start to talk about, well him.  
  
“Hot off the presses, the debut single from buzzed about singer Harry Styles, who was an internet sensation after taking the stage with Ed Sheeran a few weeks back. Hope you all enjoy it, I know I’m a fan, this is Happily.”  
  
Harry sat up in his chair, throwing his sunglasses to the ground. “Louis! Did you do this?! I thought it wasn’t coming out for another week?!”  
  
“Liam is very persuasive when he wants something,” he squeezed Harry’s ankle, a toothy smile spread across his face, “You sound so fucking good on the radio, love.”  
  
“I can’t believe I’m _on_ the fucking radio!”  
  
They both sang along at the top of their lungs, clapping and stomping their feet on the ground. Harry collapsed back when it was over, shaking his head in awe. “That really just happened,”

“It’s only the beginning, rock star.”  
  
Harry now had so much pent up energy running through his body that needed a release. He looked at Louis, poking his toe into his thigh with a sly smile.  
  
“Hey, come here and finger me,”  
  
Louis raised his eyebrows, a surprised laugh falling from him lips, “Excuse me?”  
  
Harry bat his eye lashes for affect. “Please?”  
  
Louis smoothed his hands up Harry’s legs, parting open his thighs, running a finger along his already fevered skin. “What’s the occasion?”  
  
Harry stuttered out a breath when he felt that finger slide just a bit further up his inner thigh. “I’m naked and have a single on the radio.” He brought his knees up, pointing under the lounger. “There’s lube down there,”  
  
Louis leaned down to grab it, nipping at his hip on the way, “Presumptuous.”  
  
“It was already there from the other— oh,” he shut his eyes and puffed out stilted breaths, his body adjusting to Louis’ nimble fingers.  
  
Louis pet his stomach with an amused smile, “I guess I can assume we'll be doing this again when you hit number one,”  
  
Harry nodded, suddenly remembering another piece of exciting news. “Oh I, ah, oh, keep doing that, forgot to tell you, Jeff got me into the Jingle Ball on the 15th,”  
  
He felt Louis pull back, immediately feeling empty. He blinked his eyes open with a frown. “Hey, what are you doing?”  
  
Louis drummed his fingers on the lounger, “Can you not talk about Jeff when I’ve got two fingers in you?”  
  
Harry kicked a leg out at him, “I just remembered and it’s good news too, who cares, now put them back before I stick your phone in there.”  
  
Louis threw his head back and cackled before leaning back in to press a hard kiss to his lips. “You’re a fucking lunatic, you know that?”  
  
“Yeah but...”  
  
You love me. It was right there, on both of their lips.  
  
Louis kissed him again, deeper, with more feeling. “I do. Love you.”  
  
Harry shivered underneath him, feeling the words pour into his heart.  
  
“I love you too.”  
  
Louis grabbed his hand, nodding to the French doors, “Lets take this inside, there are things I need to do to you that would make Mother Nature blush.”  
  
Harry rolled his eyes, but got up eagerly all the same.  
  
Louis paused at the kitchen counter, turning up the speaker when Harry’s song played again. He turned to him, a thoughtful look on his face. “I have this idea for another song, it’s more of a ballad, but I think it would work great with your voice,”  
  
Harry tilted his head to the side, considering. Sure, he could do a ballad. Why not. “What’s it about?”  
  
“Us.”

 

>>> 

 

Louis usually hated his birthday. Getting older wasn’t the most fun, not in the industry he was in, but getting to spend it with Harry made up for all the miserable birthdays of the past.  
  
He didn’t go home anymore, it was too hard without his mother around, and everyone back home had their own extended families by now. So instead he sent too many gifts and planned a family vacation for them all in the summer in lieu of his presence.  
  
Harry didn’t go home because he didn’t want Louis to spend the holidays alone. He had eased his mind with the fact that he had a lot of family, his mother and sister would survive a year without him, and assured him Niall knew every Irish person in Los Angeles, so he was far from being alone either.  
  
With all the boxes ticked, he decided that a renting a private house in Hawaii would be the best way to spend the holidays with Harry.  
  
He meticulously organized it so that every angle of privacy was covered, as Harry was becoming more recognizable himself. He knew that he needed to meticulously organize his life as well, but for now those thoughts were put off until the New Year.  
  
Harry was here with him in one of the lushest spots in the world, lying in miles of crisp cotton sheets, his golden tan standing out stark against them. He started singing at the top of his lungs, making Louis shake his head and smile.  
  
“If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world!”  
  
Louis crossed his arms, leaning against the bedroom door frame. “I know for a fact you’re exclusively singing songs with the word “lay” in it and changing it to “lei”. I can hear it,”  
  
Harry flipped over and propped his chin up in his palms, sticking his tongue out. “It’s Christmas, I can do what I want,” he pat the empty spot next to him. “Come watch Love Actually with me,”  
  
Louis groaned flopping down onto the bed next to him. “Can’t we watch a movie I’m not in?”  
  
Harry side eyed him, “Yesterday was your day, you got Harry Styles inside of you on a balcony over looking the ocean, just like you asked. Today I want Louis Tomlinson in the greatest Christmas movie of all time.”

“Is it _really_ better than Home Alone though,”  
  
Harry scoffed. “Duh. We’re just lucky you weren’t in The Holiday, I had a hard enough time with Jude Law alone,”  
  
Louis raised his eyebrows, biting down on Harry’s shoulder, “Oh yeah? Were you jizzing to Jude?”  
  
“Take me to the Oscars and maybe you’ll find out.” Louis faltered, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “Lou, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—  
  
“No it’s okay, I’m not going anyways,”  
  
Harry chewed on his lips, concern coloring his face. “But your movie’s nominated... I thought you loved award shows?”  
  
Louis did love award shows; they were pompous and pretentious and ridiculous. He didn’t love that he now had a person he couldn’t take with him to enjoy all the utter nonsense. All because he couldn’t get his shit together.   
  
“I’m just not in the mood for award season. It’s fine.”  
  
Harry was troubled now and Louis hated it. He looked sheepish as he toyed with the necklace swinging from his neck. “I got invited to a couple of parties,”  
  
Louis rolled onto his side, pulling Harry over to face him. He pet a hand over the disarray of curls. “Hey, no. You should go. Meet people. Have fun, enjoy your success. I’m sure Niall is dying to go,”  
  
Harry smiled, “Yeah he is. Thinks he’s famous by proximity now.”  
  
Louis laughed, a real belly laugh from his gut, “If anyone should be famous, it’s Niall,” he stroked his hand down his cheek, cupping his face. “You know I would never hold you back right?  
  
“I know.”  
  
“Good.” Louis kissed his nose, rolling over to grab the remote. “Alright, let’s watch this damn movie. I’m sure it’s on every channel anyways.”  
  
He settled into the pillows, draping Harry across his chest, and tuned out his own nagging voice to concentrate on Harry’s cheerful chatter throughout the movie.  
  
...  
  
Later that week he sat and smoked on the balcony, laughing as he watched Harry’s poor attempt at surfing. His hips had dark blooming purple bruises that stood out against the pale pink of his swim shorts, bruises that Louis had left behind after their hours of love making the night before with nothing but their quiet gasps mixing in with the lull of the ocean waves.   
  
He took his phone out and snapped a picture of Harry, thumbing over the image with a sad smile playing on his lips as he sang quietly under his breath.  
  
“Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful angel. Love your imperfections every angle. Tomorrow comes and goes before you know. So I just had to let you know.”  
  
The New Year was looming and that meant something had to change.  
  
But for now, he wanted to stay here forever in this moment.

  
  
>>>

 

“Hey thanks for meeting me,”  
  
Harry slid into the booth, smiling across at Niall. He rolled his eyes, pushing a beer towards him. “It’s your birthday dummy, course I did.”  
  
Harry frowned, sipping on the bitter ale. Niall leaned forward, lips pulled down, “What’s up, what’s wrong with the birthday boi?”  
  
“You pronouncing boy like that is definitely up there on the list,”  
  
Niall flicked his hand, making him meet his eyes. “I’m serious. Did something happen with Lou?”  
  
“Yes? And no. I don’t know. Ever since I brought up the Oscars in Hawaii he’s been off,”  
  
Niall took a pull of his beer, wiping his lips after. “H, I’m sure he’s fine. You said you had an amazing time?”  
  
Harry dragged a nail across a scratch in the table. “I did, I just...” he glanced up at Niall feeling the guilt wash over him. “I don’t think he wants to come out.”  
  
“Did he tell you that?”  
  
Harry sat back with a sigh. “No, but he hasn’t said anything about it either. I never know what he’s thinking.”  
  
Niall reached over to grab his hand. “He loves you. He will. But you have to think about it from his perspective,”  
  
“I have!”  
  
Niall raised his eyebrows. “You’ve thought about him winning an Oscar for playing a closeted gay man and now years later he’s going to come out with the fact he’s been gay all along and all the shite that’s going to come with that?”  
  
“I...no,” Harry slouched down in the booth, taking another sip of his drink. “I never thought about that.”  
  
Niall laughed lightly. “Harry, he’s been in the industry since he was a teenager. It’s not as simple for him. You just have to be patient.”  
  
He picked at his coaster, flinging a piece at Niall. “You were the one warning me against this in the first place,”  
  
He shrugged with a grin. “He’s a lovable dude, what can I say.”  
  
“Don’t I know it.”  
  
“Excuse me, Harry?”  
  
Harry turned in the booth, facing two girls who looked around seventeen, both clutching a phone in their hands. “Yes?”  
  
“Sorry, but we were wondering if we could get a picture?”  
  
He hesitated, glancing at Niall’s already annoyed face. “Sure, why not.”  
  
They clamored up next to him as he threw a peace sign up to the camera. He handed the phone back over to them, one of the girls blurting out, “Are you dating Tommy Dorfman?”  
  
He looked at Niall again, who was shaking his head just as lost as him. “Sorry, who?”  
  
The girl stammered now. “Oh um, you guys were pictured together at that party the other night, it was all over Just Jared, but anyways sorry for asking, thank you for the picture!”  
  
They ran off before Harry could ask again who his fictional beau was.  
  
“Who’s Tommy Dorfman?”  
  
Harry shook his head, pulling out his phone. “I have no idea, I guess we talked at that Golden Globes party I went to, but I met so many people that night,” and there it was, in big block letters on Just Jared, ‘are Harry and Tommy a new thing?’. All because they spoke outside of a party while they waited for their Uber’s.  
  
“It does look like you’re leaving together,” Niall mused.  
  
Harry threw his phone on the table, wagging his hand at it, “What is the point of this shit? And why isn’t my manager pulling these?”  
  
Niall shot him a look. “Harry, you can’t be serious. We’ve watched enough TMZ in our time to know that this is what managers eat for breakfast. That’s the biz baby.”  
  
“Yeah but what, now every time I stand next to someone I’m going to be dating them?”  
  
“Probably, yeah,”

Harry leaned his head into his hands, massaging his temples. “This is so fucked up.”

“H, just go home and talk to Louis. Enjoy your birthday. You’ll feel better, trust me.”

“Harry Styles?”

Harry pulled his head up, finding himself face to face with another group of eager girls holding their phones.

“No ladies, not today, you’re looking at him and that’s enough, go on now,”

They scattered away quickly after that, not wanting to stay for the rest of the Irish tirade. Harry grimaced, laughing into this beer, “Niall, you can’t do that, they’re just kids.”

“I just did. You’re already took one, that’s enough,” he tapped on the screen of his phone. “Paps and gossip rags are one thing, but Twitter? That is a level of hell like no other Harry.”

Harry stared at him in disbelief. “Who are you?”

Niall slid some money on the table, finishing off the rest of his pint. “I work at a club where all the teen dreams get sloshed out of their minds and these kids wait outside of it hoping to catch a glimpse. I’m in the know,” he came over to Harry’s side, pulling him out of the leather seat. “Twitter is how they find everyone, so come on, your time is up, they’re on to you,”

Harry grumbled behind him on the way out, “Better not get an Uber at the same time, we’ll be dating next.”

“In your dreams, Styles,” he hugged him before tugging the door open, pushing him out. “Now go home to your man.

…

Louis had spoilt him to the point of embarrassment on his birthday, with an excessive amount of clothing that he had no idea where to start putting away and a brand new Range Rover because unlike Louis, he did like to drive.

“Aren’t people going to wonder where I got a brand new Range Rover?”

Louis just gave him a funny look, before going back to his laptop to type out an email. “Who would wonder that?”

Harry thought back the Twitter conversion with Niall and sighed inwardly.

He also kept thinking about the rest of their conversation, and how he needed to talk to Louis, for real talk to him about what they were going to do.

It was still bothering him a couple of weeks later, but he just never had time to broach the subject with them trying to put the finishing touches on the album.

He was sitting on a stool in the kitchen, idly swinging his legs and scribbling out lyrics into his black leather notebook, when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist, and a warm pair of lips on his neck.

“Hey, baby,”

He placed a hand on top of the one on his stomach, giving it a squeeze. “Hey.”

Louis moved to the opposite side of the counter, leaning on his palms. “I heard the demo for the music on that new song today,”

Harry shut his notebook, pushing it to the side. “Yeah? I think it needs a horn section,”

“Did you tell Liam?”

“Yeah, but—

Louis put a hand up in protest, “No, no buts. If baby wants a horn section, he’s getting horn section.”

Harry, snorted, pulling his hand back down. “Come off it,”

“I’m serious. Liam will have to live with you being right, just like I have to.”

“Mmm hmm.”

Louis smiled. Harry was so fucking gone for him. “Where are the lyrics?”

Harry tapped on the side of his head. “I was thinking something like ‘I live for Lou, I long for Lou, I love Lou?”

Louis rolled his eyes, swatting Harry across the chest, “Sounds like a shit song.”

“Fiiiine.” He twirled a piece of hair around his finger, head cocked. “It’s actually a play on the word olive? When we get to the lead up to the chorus I want it to sound like olive but it’s really’ I love you, I love you, I love, I love’ blank,”

Louis shoulders shook with laughter, the sound bubbling out of him like music to Harry’s ears. “You and your fucking puns,” he leaned over and clasped Harry’s face in his hands, “It’s fucking brilliant.”

Harry brightened, glowing under Louis’ praise. “Really?”

“Always.”

“I was thinking it should be a name, like a girl’s name, Olivia?”

Louis nodded. “That works, very quirky. And it can mean whatever you want it to mean, it can be about anything really,”

Harry softened. “You know that all my songs are about you.”

“I do.”

Harry reached into his back pocket for his phone, “I should tell Liam—

“Harry,”

He glanced back at Louis who was now looking suspicious, holding one hand behind his back.

“Will you marry me?”

“What the fuck, Lou!”

He slid the box across the counter, a flush creeping up into his cheeks. “I figured you could wear it among all your other rings, it wouldn’t really draw much attention,”

Harry carefully opened the lid, sucking a breath in when he saw the platinum band lined with a row of black diamonds. “Louis…”

“You don’t have to answer right now, I know it’s soon, but—

Harry slipped the ring on his middle finger, moving around to pull Louis into a crushing hug, “Yes, of course yes, I’d marry you today if I could, oh my god,”

Louis pulled back, holding Harry in his own shaking arms. “You want to get married today?”

Harry laughed, fingers circling the diamonds in his ring, “We can’t get married on Valentine’s Day,”

“Why not? We’re the only ones who would know.”

Harry shrugged at that. “Well and Niall,” he smiled knowingly at Louis. “He’s an ordained mister.”

Louis shook his head, “Of course he is.” He then got down on one knee and took the ring off his middle finger, posing it over the correct one. “So, are we doing this Styles?”

“Fuck it. Let’s get married.”

…

And just like that they ended up eloping in Louis’ backyard with Niall blubbering on about fate and soulmates, Liam playing them out on piano and their respective families crying along with them on Skype.

Harry didn’t think he could feel any higher than this. Even performing on stage for the first time was no match for how he felt right now.

He threw his robe onto the chair in their room, posing in the doorway of the bathroom. “I can’t believe I married Louis Tomlinson, all my teenage dreams are coming true,”

“You better get that cute ass over here to consummate this marriage just to make sure you’re not dreaming.”

Harry ran over to the bed and fell on top of Louis with a laugh, “Anything for you, husband.”

“I can’t believe I have the most beautiful husband in the world.”

Harry couldn’t either.

 

>>> 

 

The rest of February and March went by in a blur. All of February Louis had gotten the feeling from Harry that something was bothering him, but he would never say and after their impromptu marriage, he seemed to have his old sparkle back.

He was working his ass off after finishing the album, playing shows at the Troubadour and the Roxy, selling out every night to crowds of screaming women and men. Harry was suddenly in the tabloids every week, when he was running out for coffee, or even just crossing the road, there he was, the man Louis loved, being hounded on every corner. But it wasn’t just Harry in those headlines. It was Harry and Tommy. Or Harry and Sam. Or Harry and Troye.

Louis had stared at the pictures him and Troye for hours, eventually convincing himself that they actually looked pretty good together, and maybe it would have been easier if Harry had fallen for someone like him. Young. Coming up in the industry like Harry. Out.

His agent had been on his case for the past couple of weeks on what he was going to do, where his career was headed. If he was finally going to take the plunge. Instead of making the decision that would make their life a hundred times easier, he brooded and spent hours in his music room handwriting lyrics to songs that would never see the light of day. But it was therapeutic, and god knows Louis needed so much more of that than just a pen and paper.

He was holed up in there one lazy April morning, the tap tap tap of the rare Southern California rain sounding out on the window. Lost in his thoughts, he finally came back to earth from the quiet sound of his name.

“Lou…”

He put the tea cup that he was just about to bring to his lips down with a clatter, bolting up in shock.

“Harry, baby…what happened to your hair?”

Harry brought his hands up to his face, shoulders shaking from the sobs racking his chest. Louis ran over to him, guiding him into the room to sit in down on the floor next to the fire he had burning. He rubbed his shoulders soothingly, going to stroke the long curls away, but hitting the air instead. Louis swallowed the lump in his own throat, trying to coax the words out. “Harry—

“They told me, they…” he hiccuped, trying to calm himself down. “The team, Jeff, they said it would be a good look, a change for promo, and I, I look so ugly…” he started crying again, and if Louis wasn’t clinging to Harry for dear life he would have been in his car on his way to murder Jeff Azoff.

“Baby, please look at me, please,” Harry begrudgingly held his head up, self-consciously dragging a hand through his hair, his face beginning to crumble again. “Can I tell you something?” He nodded, sniffling quietly. “Honestly, you look fucking hot, even with all your goobers everywhere,”

He finally laughed, lips still quivering. “You have to say that,”

“No I don’t. But, it’s true.” He wiped a tear away with his thumb, combing his own fingers through the tangled waves. “You’re going to stuff yourself into those stupid sinful black jeans and put on one of your see through shirts that I’m certain you’re trying to kill me with, and you’re still going to be Harry Styles. Your hair isn’t you, _you are_.”

“Niall said I look like Robert Pattinson.”

“Niall’s a tit, he’s just naming other British people with short hair,” Louis leaned in to kiss him, whispering against his lips, “Plus, you’re so much hotter than Robert Pattinson.”

Harry smiled, though it was still painfully sad. “You really don’t think I’m hideous?”

“Don’t make me get out the ass song, Harry,”

He nodded, looking down at their intertwined fingers. “Okay.”

Louis pulled him into another hug, squeezing him so tight he thought the breath would be crushed out of him. When he pulled back Harry looked hesitant again.

“I got SNL. For the end of April,”

“That’s great, Harry.”

He frowned, picking at the string hanging from the bottom of his t-shirt. “Can you come?”

Louis touched his face, “I don’t think I should, babe.”

He could see that Harry was clenching his teeth, his lips a thin line again. His heart ached in places he did not know could hurt. “Right, I know, sorry. I’m just feeling, you know,”

Louis clutched him in his arms again, tucking his nose into his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Harry sat back, a faint smile back on his tear stained face. “I’m going to be singing that new song,”

“Oh yeah? The one about you sexing up boys and girls?” Harry blushed, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. Louis tickled his fingers into his sides.  “My saucy little minx,” Louis stood up, pulling Harry up by his hands as well. “Come on, let me make you a cuppa and tuck you into bed,”

“I’m not sick, Lou,”

Louis cocked his hip, “You should know me well enough by now that we’re aren’t actually going to bed,”

“Is tucking me into a bed a metaphor for your penis?”

“It is, babe.”

Louis followed him down the hall to their room, letting him fall back against the bed with a heavy sigh. He watched him from the door, hoping that somehow, he could do something to take a tiny piece of that pain away.

…

The big night had finally arrived. Harry was in New York making his debut and Louis was in LA watching it in disbelief. Louis hung off his couch, watching Harry strut around the SNL stage in a sparkly fitted grey jumpsuit, singing about how he loved the taste of a man on his lips, the cocky smirk that went along with it causing Louis to pop the top off another Corona. That smirk was supposed to be for him, but now, there were men currently sitting in that audience wondering if they could get a piece of the elusive Harry Styles.

Harry was famous. Here he was on a show Louis had hosted a couple of times himself, his name scrolling across the credits like Louis’ once was. This is what he had wanted. Harry was deserving of this, he had worked long and hard for this moment and loved everything about performing and creating music. And Louis was the one who had got him here.

So why did it hurt so fucking much?

He had spent the last week that Harry had been gone getting drunk off his face and papped stumbling out of bars he hadn’t been to since his early twenties asking himself this very same question.  He had even gone as far as to go to his doctor and got a prescription for Xanax, thinking maybe a few pills would put him into a strong enough fog to deal with the pain brewing deep in his chest.

He saw a man in the crowd hold up a sign to Harry that had his number on it. Harry laughed, waving it off and looked directly in the camera. Almost as if to say ‘my husband wouldn’t like that’ knowing that Louis was out there watching.

No. He wouldn’t.

But he was too fucked up to say it out loud.

 

>>> 

 

“Lou?”

Harry placed his bags in the hallway, noting the silence. Usually Louis would be bouncing into his arms and crashing his lips into his, mumbling into his mouth about how much he missed him.

He wandered down the hall into their bedroom, but he wasn’t there either. Harry sat down on the unmade bed, thumbing at the navy blue duvet. Harry had a penchant for blue things ever since a pair of blue eyes buried themselves into his heart and soul.

“Hey,”

Louis leaned against the doorway, looking like he hadn’t slept in the past week. If the pictures Harry had seen had anything to say, he probably hadn’t. “Hey yourself,”

Louis pulled on the string of his hoodie, his eyes avoiding Harry’s. “I saw the show. You were good. Amazing. You were amazing,”

“But?”

Louis frowned, dropping the string to look at Harry. “There was no but.”

Harry clasped his hands in his lap with a heavy sigh. “Lou, we need to talk,”

“About what?”

“Jeff wants to start the tour,”

Louis hesitated. “Okay.”

Harry whipped his head up, eyes flashing. “ _Okay_? Louis, it’s a four month tour. What are we going to do, not see each other until it’s over?”

Louis blanched, digging his toe into the carpet. “I don’t know, it’s not any different than shooting a movie, I—

“Louis, I’m not going to do that, I want my fucking husband there, at least for part of it!” Harry’s mouth formed a thin line. “So here it is. Do you want to come out?”

“I don’t know.”

Harry stood up, dragging a hand through his hair with a pained laugh. “You fucking married me and you don’t _know_ ,”

Louis moved over to him, grabbing onto his arm. “Of course I married you, I love you,”

Harry whipped around, “Do you?”

Louis dropped his arm, hand clutching onto his stomach like it might fall out of him. “How can you ask me that?”

Harry folded his arms against his chest, voice bitter, like he had never heard it sound before. “Because, you seem perfectly happy to let the press assume I’m with a new guy every other week,”

“You think that makes me happy?”

“I don’t know, Louis.”

“It makes me sick, physically fucking sick, Harry,” he fished a bottle of pills out of his pocket, throwing it over into Harry’s surprised hands. “There, are _you_ happy?”

Harry’s voice came out as a whisper. “Louis…”

He marched over to him, wrapping his fingers around Harry’s wrists. “I love you more than life it’s fucking self. I do want everyone to know. But I am scared shitless,”

Harry dropped the pills on the ground, clutching back at Louis’ hands, “We can do this together, Lou.”

Louis searched his eyes, “Then what? What happens to my career? I’ve been lying for the past twelve years,”

“Who isn’t lying, Lou? This whole god damn town is built on lies,” Harry’s eyes turned glassy, the tears threatening to fall out of him and if they did, he didn’t know if he could stop them. “Louis, if you love me more than anything, doesn’t that include your career?”

“I— Louis hung his head, nodding, “Yes, of course it does.”

Harry tipped his chin up with his finger, making Louis look at him. “We’ll be fine Louis. It’s just you and I forever, remember?” Harry leaned his head down, pressing a kiss to his trembling lips. “I’m here with you all the way, and if we lose all of our fans then fuck it, we’ll move to a little town in France where no one cares about two has-been celebrities being gay and in love.”

“No one should care here either,”

Harry finally felt a smile form on his lips that wasn’t shrouded in sadness. “They probably won’t, Lou.”

“I’ve just never been out, you know? Not to anyone but my family and a couple of friends,”

Harry nodded, eyes clouding over again. “I know.” He reached out to Louis, entwining their fingers together, “You just have to trust me.”

Louis wrapped his arms around him, pulling him against his chest, hugging him so hard he thought they would both crumble from the weight of their pain.

“I do baby. I do.”

“Good.” Harry pulled back and smoothed the hair off Louis’ forehead, placing a kiss there afterwards. “And the pills? Do you need help?”

He quickly shook his head, “No.”

Harry searched his eyes, “Are you just telling me what I want to hear? It’s okay if you need to talk about it with someone Lou, we can fix this,”

Louis shook his head, rubbing a hand up Harry’s back. “I swear. Honestly, I was just being dramatic. I only got them yesterday.”

“You’re not lying to make me feel better, right?”

“I promise, love. You can flush them right now.”

“Okay.” Harry stared at him, biting his lip. “So, we’re doing this?”

Louis cupped his face his hands, blowing out a shaky breath. “Yeah, baby. I’m going to do this.”

“ _We’re_ going to do this.”

Louis laughed, “Always have to be right.”

Harry kissed him to shut him up. It would always be his favorite thing they did.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Harry. So fucking much.”

…

And finally after a week of uncertainty and heartache, they laid down on their bed, Harry feeling Louis cocoon himself around him. He closed his eyes with a heavy sigh, wrapping himself in the safety of their love.

 

>>> 

 

Louis turned to the knock on their front door, looking down at their snoozing dog that didn’t bother to get up. “Lot of good you are.” He was bloody cute though, Clifford, with his wild curly mane and lovable eyes. Louis isn’t going to say he got him on a whim because he reminded him of Harry, but.

He strode over to the door to open it, brows furrowed when he saw who was behind it.

“Jeff, hey, what’s up?”

“Is Harry here?”

Louis shook his head, “No, he’s downtown doing a fitting,” Shouldn’t you know that he also wanted to ask, but waved him in instead. Louis led him to the kitchen, leaning against the center island to face him where he leaned against the doorway.

“So, you guys are going to come out,”

Ah. “Yes.”

Jeff crossed his arms on his chest. “What happened?”

Louis rolled his eyes, nodding to their wedding pictures on the fridge. “Well, Jeff, I don’t know if you remember, but Harry and I are married,”

“I realize that, but you,” he pointed at Louis accusingly, “You were very adamant about keeping that to yourself,”

Louis crossed his own arms now. “Yes, and now the two of us decided that we don’t want to.”

Jeff heaved out an annoyed sigh, “Louis, have you thought about what this is going to be like for him?”

“Of course I have,”

“Really, have you? You realize his whole career is built on him being sexually ambiguous,”

“Everyone knows he’s gay, Jeff,” Louis scoffed.

“Do they? He’s never confirmed it publicly,”

Louis’ eyes thinned into slits. “Yeah, but you’re the one who exclusively links him to men, what else should people think?”

Jeff looked like he wanted to punch Louis. Good. “He’s going to go from single to married, that’s zero to sixty, Louis, do you know how much of a PR nightmare this is going to be?”

“Surely there are about a thousand positive ways to spin this,”

Ignoring Louis, he pressed on, “Not to mention the harassment he’s going to get from the media and paps,”

“What about it? We both deal with that shit, me much longer than he has if I have to remind you,”

“It’s not like Harry,” he nodded to their surroundings. “He had to get an injunction on this house and most recently, a restraining order on a fan. Did he tell you that?”

Louis’ mouth fish mouthed open and closed as he slumped back against the counter, his voice a whisper. “No.”

Jeff stood facing him with his hands on his hips. “I’m surprised he hasn’t had a nervous breakdown yet, truthfully,”

Louis’ eyes met his, flashing red. “What?”

“Yeah, while you’ve been wrapped up in your poor me shit, Harry sometimes works himself up to the point where he needs his inhaler,”

Louis bit his lip, “Harry hasn’t used that since he was—

“Nineteen. I know.”

Louis stared at the ground, willing the tears away, because he would not cry in front of this asshole. He heard him knock on the door frame, indicating he was done with his interrogation.

“He keeps it together for you, Louis. Remember that.”

He waited until he heard the front door slam shut, and only then did he let himself slide down to the floor, huddling his knees up to his chest. He swallowed hard, fumbling his hand under his shirt to touch the cool, round piece of metal against his chest.

“Oh, Harry.”

He closed his eyes, picturing Harry on their wedding day. Beautiful and warm and the happiest Louis had ever seen him. Was that the last time it had ever been real? How had he not seen the signs?  And he knew the answer to that, Jeff had said it himself. Louis was a selfish fuck who couldn’t see that his own husband was breaking in front of his eyes.

He kicked a foot into the stool in front of him, the loud scrape scaring their dog awake. Louis leaned over to pet a calming hand on his curly fur, “Sorry, bud.”

The least he could do was make one person in this home feel better.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he ignored the incessant buzz, instead listening for the sound of Harry’s car in the driveway. It went off four more times, finally answering it on the last ring with a frown and a mouthful for Liam.

When he heard the panic in his voice, he stopped himself.

“Louis you have to come quick…It’s Harry.”

…

Louis pulled over and threw up three times on the way to the hospital but still made it there in record time, the words ‘there’s been an accident’ throbbing in the forefront of his mind.

He bolted through the doors, yelling out for Liam, frantically searching his eyes until he landed on his slumped figure huddled in one of the chairs. He sat with his head hung low, slowly bringing it up to look at Louis with big glossy eyes. “Lou—

“Where is he?”

“Louis—

“Liam, where the fuck is my husband!”

Liam stood up, darting his eyes around, grabbing onto Louis’ hands. “Lou, people can hear you,”

Louis pulled his hands away, stomping a foot on the ground. “I don’t fucking care if the god damn pope can hear me, where is he?”

“You can’t see him right now,”

“Why,” Louis felt his heart seize up, like he already knew the answer.

“We were in the studio downtown, working on the tour and stuff, and he ran out to grab some food for us and…” Liam sucked in a breath, face falling. “Someone hit him,”

All of the air seemed to collapse out of his lungs, and he swayed on his feet. Liam held onto him, sitting him down in a chair. He knelt in front of him, clutching onto his hands. “Lou…it isn’t good,”

“Don’t say that.”

“I just want you to—

“No, shut the fuck up.” Louis pushed him out of the way, standing up again, pacing in a circle. “He’s fine. He is. I just saw him this morning…” Louis bit down on his lip, biting back the tears. He won’t cry. Not right now. He will be strong. “He’s going to be fine, Liam.”

“Okay Lou.”

…

“Mr. Tomlinson?”

Louis whipped his head up, striding over to meet the doctor in the hallway. “How is he?”

“He’s out of surgery, but Mr. Tomlinson we need you to understand. There was significant damage to his head. We don’t know when he’s going to wake up,”

Louis heard the ‘if’ in there too, but dismissed it. “Can I see him?”

“Of course.”

Louis followed him down the hall, like it was a slow walk to his own death. He gripped the door handle, faltering momentarily when he saw Harry. He looked small. So, so small with his head bandaged up, bruises under both eyes, his skin pale and grey. Louis wanted to throw up again.

Instead he walked over to the bed, covering Harry’s cold hand with his own.

“Baby, I’m here. And I’m going to be strong for the both of us, okay? You’re going to wake up Harry, you _will._ Because I love you so fucking much. And I’m going to tell the world.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek, turning around to head back out to the waiting room. Liam stood up when he got there, pushing the unread magazine off his lap. “Is he?”

“He’s alive. And that’s what matters.” Liam nodded, holding onto Louis. He didn’t know which one of them needed it more. “Did you call Niall?”

Liam smacked a hand on his face, rubbing his week old scruff. “Shit, I didn’t think of it, all of it happened so fast.”

“It’s okay, I’ll call him and Harry’s family, but I need you to do me a favor,”

“Anything.”

…

Louis was asleep at Harry’s bedside when he felt fingers combing through his hair. He smiled to himself, slowly easing himself out of a peaceful sleep. Then he heard the sound of the monitors and sadly realized the fingers belonged to Niall.

“Hey, Lou,”

“Hey,” He stood up, pulling him into a long hug. “How are you holding up?”

“Not well. Harry’s mum cried on the phone for an hour,”

Louis rubbed a hand up his arm, squeezing his shoulder. “She’s coming out tonight?”

Niall nodded. “They got the first red eye out here.” He fiddled with the chain around his neck, blindly looking at Louis. “The paps are here, well, outside I mean,”

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it.” He waved a hand over to the chair next to Harry. “Can you sit with him? There’s something I need to do. I shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

“Of course,” he hugged Louis again, tucking his chin over his shoulder. “He’s going to be okay, Louis.”

Louis squeezed him one more time, before turning away. He couldn’t see Niall cry.

“I know.”

…

Liam jogged down the hall, heavy bag strapped to his shoulder. “I think I got everything but you literally have like a hundred journals lying around,”

He grabbed the one that Liam held in his hands, flipping through it slowly. “This is Harry’s,”

“See, I told you. Hundreds,”

Louis shook his head, stopping on one of the pages, “It’s fine, I remembered the lyrics.”

“Of course.”

“Wait, what’s this Liam?” He turned the page to him, pointing at the lyrics. “Did Harry ever record this?”

“Not that I recall,”

Louis read the lyrics over and over, the pain in his heart getting heavier with every word.

 

'If I could fly, I’d be coming right back home to you

I think I might give up everything, just ask me to

Pay attention, I hope that you listen cause I let my guard down

Right now I’m completely defenseless

 

For your eyes only, I’ll show you my heart

For when you’re lonely and forget who you are

I’m missing half of me when we’re apart

Now you know me, for your eyes only

For your eyes only'

 

Louis sucked in a breath, biting back the burning tears that were threatening to consume him. “I broke his heart and I didn’t even know it.”

Liam closed the notebook, pulling it from his hands. “Lou, don’t do this to yourself,”

He took the book back, clutching it to his chest. “No, I did though. He never told me how much all of this was killing him. I had to hear it from that dickhead Jeff Azoff.”

“Lou, it has been go go go since the day you met. I don’t think either have you have stopped to process everything that’s happened,” he put a hand around the back of his neck, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Harry knows that you love him, but if you need to prove it to yourself, now is your chance.”

“I’m going to prove it to the world.” He stepped back, bouncing eagerly on his heels, “You talked to Zayn though? Everything is set up?”

“Yep, all good. You know he loves an exclusive,”

Zayn Malik, not to be confused with Zane Lowe, was the only radio DJ they ever gave their singles first listens to. Hence why Harry’s first single got the special treatment it did.

“But you didn’t tell him—

“No. I’m leaving that part to you.”

“Okay. Let’s go record a song for the love of my life.”

…

Liam gave him a thumbs up, passing the phone over to him.

“And here with us right now is the one and only Louis Tomlinson. How’s it going mate?”

“It’s going. Thanks for having me.”

“It’s my pleasure. So a little birdy named Liam Payne told me earlier that you guys write a lot of songs together,”

Louis smiled over at Liam. He figured if he was going to come clean about being gay, then what were a few more pieces of dirty laundry. “Yeah, I suppose you could say we’ve done a few songs,”

Zayn chuckled, “A few? Like half of last year’s top ten? Who knew, Louis Tomlinson, Oscar _and_ Grammy award winner.”

“Well, Liam mostly.”

And Harry. Beautiful, sweet Harry. Who he was doing this very thing for.

“So today we have a special treat then, your first single,”

Louis held up a finger, laughing, “First and only.”

“Is it for a movie?”

For the first time ever did not hesitate to answer. “No, it’s for my husband.”

Louis swore he could hear his agent and publicist screaming all the way from Beverly Hills.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute, just checking our connection here. Did you say your husband?”

Louis was amused. Maybe shocking people with this news was better than any drug out there. “Yes.”

“Wow, now that is a bombshell, I have like, a thousand follow up questions,”

“I’m sure you do. He and I will be doing some interviews later on, but for now I’m sharing with the world, my fans, you, that I am happily married.”

Zayn clapped. “That’s really amazing, Louis, congrats to you. So, do we get to know who the lucky guy is?”

This time Louis did hesitate. This was as much Harry’s story to tell as it was his. He glanced at Liam, who shrugged up his shoulders, “Harry wanted everyone to know. You know that. Whatever you think is right, though.”

He rubbed his hands on his jeans, nodding to himself. Yeah okay. Here goes.

“Harry Styles.”

Louis really hoped this time he would hear Jeff screaming from Beverly Hills.

If Zayn was in shock, he didn’t let on. He laughed instead. “Actually, that would explain a lot of his songs,”

“Harry doesn’t quite know what the word subtle means,” he mused with a fond smile.

Zayn then brought him back to reality. “Of course we’ve all heard about the accident here at the station, so we’d like to pass along our love and best wishes for Harry’s quick recovery,”

Louis swallowed the familiar lump in his throat. “Thank you.”

“Alright, let’s get to some music. Here is the world premiere of Strong by Louis Tomlinson,” Zayn paused, coming back after a few seconds to finish. “He wrote it for his husband, Harry Styles.”

 

'I’m sorry if I say I need you

But I don’t care

I’m not scared of love

Cause when I’m not with you I’m weaker

Is that so wrong?

Is it so wrong?

You make me strong'

….

The next week at the hospital felt like a hundred years to Louis. The paps were even more frenzied after his brief interview with Zayn, and he had to field several shrill phone calls from his agent and Jeff, who now had to work together on how to handle the aftermath that was Harry and Louis. He had agreed to one interview so far, which seemed daunting enough considering that he might have to do it on his own.

Both of their families had flown in and made quick work on becoming thick as thieves. Louis put them all up the Beverly Hills Hotel, because even though he wasn’t staying at their house, it felt wrong to have anyone else stay there either. That was the one place that was their sanctuary, something only the two of them shared together that no one else could touch.

The song had been received well, occupying the number two spot on the weekly charts, which was fine. Louis had to accept that even his overwhelming love for Harry could not take down Drake’s reign of terror on the charts. He played it for Harry every morning and every night before he tried to go to sleep. The doctors said that it was good for him to hear a familiar voice, something that he loved. Louis only hoped that his voice was the one that would do the trick.

After another long day of being berated by his agent, Louis was attempting to sleep again, his body twisted uncomfortably in the chair he had been occupying at Harry’s bedside. They had brought a bed in for him to sleep in, but he wanted to be as close as possible; holding onto Harry’s hand throughout the night was something that he needed to comfort himself as well.

Louis. Louis. Wake up.

His eyes twitched in recognition. But he was sure it was just another dream. It had to be.

“Louis…Lou,”

When he heard it again, he knew it was real. The sound of Harry’s actual voice was something that Louis would know in any lifetime.

He felt the fingers beneath him flinch, and he was snapped out his dream like fog, ready and alert.

“Harry?” he sat up straight, touching his fingers to the side of his face, smoothing down the lines of worry and confusion.

“Lou, where am I?”

Louis started to tremble, the tears finally spilling down his face. “Baby, you’re awake, oh my god, you’re awake,”

Harry squint his eyes, “Lou what happened?”

Louis clutched his hand in his, pressing fevered kisses to the top, bringing it up to his heart. “Harry, do you remember the last place you were?”

He closed his eyes, shaking his head from side to side until he held onto a thought. “I was out…with Liam... and we…we were in some…a studio…I was hungry and then… then…there was a car,”

His eyes started to panic, the memory coming back too quick. Louis kissed his hand again, rubbing his forearm, “Hey hey, it’s okay, just take it slow, I’m here. You’re okay,”

“Am I Lou? Am I okay?”

Louis moved his hand to his face again, ghosting his fingers up over the top of his head. “Your head is pretty banged up love. And you have a broken leg. But everything else is okay,”

He searched Louis’ eyes, the panic surging through again. “Are you sure?”

“Yes baby, the doctor is going to come and tell you right now as well, I just have to go get him,”

Harry shook his head, clutching at him weakly, “Don’t leave Louis, please don’t leave,”

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here, but—

“You were singing to me?”

Louis moved to smooth his hair away. A habit he would have to shake now. “When baby?”

“In my sleep, I kept hearing it. You sang to me,”

Louis nodded. “I did. I wrote you a song.”

“A clean one?”

Louis laughed, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips, “Yeah. I wrote you a love song. It’s kind of on the radio,”

“Seriously?”

“And we… well, we’re out,”

Harry’s face was covered in shock. “You came out?”

“I did. _We_ did,” Louis leaned his head on the pillow, his voice low as he stroked Harry’s face. He couldn’t stop touching him, not now. “I should have told the whole world you were mine the day I met you and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” he pushed a tear away with the back of his hand, wiping Harry’s away as well. “You should have told me Harry, that things were so hard. Why were you suffering alone when I’m right here?"

Harry looked confused. “How did you know?”

“I saw the song…in your notebook.” Jeff didn’t need an honorable mention here.

“Oh.” He moved his head as much as he could, looking into Louis’ eyes, “Sometimes you’re so in your head, and I didn’t know what you were thinking. I didn’t want you to leave me.”

Louis felt his heart shatter. He brought his hand back up to Harry’s face, hoping he could get the point across. “Harry there is nothing in this world that could ever make me want to leave you. I would die for you.”

Harry glanced down, touching a finger to Louis’ ring finger. “You’re wearing your ring,”

“Well I am a married man.”

Harry tried to look at his hand, but Louis pat down on the chain on his own chest, “I’ve got it baby, safe keeping and all that.” He kissed him again, finally coming to the realization that he really did have to get the doctor and that this heavy conversation probably tired Harry out for the rest of the night. “Rest now love, I’m going to get the doctor.”

“Louis,”

“What?”

“You don’t ever have to say you’re sorry. I need you too.”

 

>>> 

 

They spent another week at the hospital, going over various test results to make sure that Harry was indeed alright, that none of his brains were scrambled. His words, this was a big concern, having scrambled brains.

He basked in his mother’s attention and the fact that there was a song on the radio about him, something he reminded Niall about every time he stopped in. He had also tried to deal with his side of the PR mess, but Louis would not allow it, he didn’t allow much anymore when it came to people bothering Harry. Liam told him he had punched a pap.

Again.

So much for his anger management classes.

But this much time spent with his family and friends in a hospital bed was wearing him down, he needed to go home. He whined about it almost every day since he woke up, so honestly he couldn’t believe they were still keeping him here and listening to it.

“Louisss, when can I go home?”

Louis gave him a look over the magazine he was reading. He had also had enough of the whining, but he loved Harry too much to tell him. It was sweet. “A couple more days’ babe, they still have to run some tests,”

Harry fell against the pillows with an annoyed sigh, “Ugh. I want my own bed.”

“And you’ll have it, made up with brand new sheets to boot. Just, in a couple of days,”

Harry felt up to his head, pouting his lips out. “I can’t believe my hair is shaved off.”

Louis threw the magazine to the side, a smile quirking on his lips. “Is there anything else you’d like to complain about right now?”

Harry folded his arms across his chest, “Yes. I’m horny too.”

“Harry, we’re in a hospital,”

“So? My dick works here too.”

Louis looked like he was going to smack him with the magazine now. “Give it a rest. It’s only a few more days,”

Harry tipped his head to the side, “You won’t even consider a hand job? It will take like max, two minutes.”

Louis just arched his eyebrows.  

“Fine. Just know that if you were in the hospital I would definitely suck your dick,”

“That’s lovely Harry, if only we could have had that in our vows.”

“Stop mocking me and come here,”

Louis sighed in resignation, crawling up on the bed. He settled in behind Harry, leaning him against his chest.

“Much better,” Harry paused, glancing back at him with a smirk. “Good angle for a hand job as well.”

“ _Harry._ ”

“Whatever.” He idly traced a finger across Louis’ wedding ring, still fascinated that it was really there. “So what’s up with work? Are you going to take the HBO show?”

“Yeah I think so. It’s only ten episodes and they’re shooting it here. I’ve gotten used to being at home now.” He bent his head down, kissing the space beneath Harry’s ear, “What did Jeff say about the tour?”

“Well, it’s obviously cancelled, unless they’re going to stream it live from my bed,”

“Ticket sales would be through the roof.”

Harry laughed, jiggling their hands that rested on his belly. “Right? But yeah, it’s going to have to wait until I can actually walk on my own two feet again and I could barely do that before. Maybe January? I don’t know.”

“You don’t sound very excited,”

Harry frowned, tipping his head back to Louis. “I don’t want be without you for that long,”

“You don’t have to be.”

“But—

“Everyone knows now, Harry. And I already told Jeff you weren’t going without me. So that’s it. We’re going to be tour buddies.”

“Really?”

Louis poked him in the stomach, “Yeah, you wanna bunk with me?”

Harry shook his head. “Not if you’re saying no to hand jobs.”

“God alright, let me lock the door at least.”

“Ha. I win,”

“I could never say no to you, baby.” Louis padded over to the door and clicked the lock, pulling the curtain around the bed as well for measure. He paused beside the bed, squeezing Harry’s thigh. “So you’re okay with that interview next week, with Barbara Walters?”

“From the comfort of our own home? Absolutely,” he grabbed Louis’ hand, moving it under the covers. “Now get your hand down my pants Mr. Tomlinson.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Tomlinson.”

He may be Harry Styles to the world, but to Louis, he was a Tomlinson.

 

>>> 

 

“Your house is beautiful,”

“Thank you Barbara,”

Louis guided her into the living room where the crew had set up cameras, waving at Harry who was fluffing up the pillows on the couch. He hobbled over to Barbara afterwards, holding out a hand while steadying himself on his crutches, “So nice to meet you, this is such an honor,”

She smiled at the two of them, giving Louis’ arm a squeeze. “I’ve always loved interviewing Louis, so I have to say that this is an honor for me as well.”

Louis waved to the chair they had placed across from the couch, “Shall we?”

She nodded, getting herself situated while Harry tried to make himself comfortable on the couch. Louis moved a pillow up to the coffee table, bringing Harry’s leg up to rest on it. “You’ve got to keep it elevated, love,”

He pecked Harry on the mouth before settling in next to him, beaming over at Barbara, “Ready.”

They cameras could have been rolling this whole time, Louis wasn’t sure, but the way she framed her first comment made him lean towards yes.

“You two are very sweet,”

“Thank you.”

She directed the next question to Harry. “So, Harry, I was told that Louis was your first crush when you were a kid,”

Louis blushed and rolled his eyes. “He loves telling people that,”

Harry bumped his shoulder against Louis’ with a smile. “I do. And it’s true, worked out pretty well if you ask me,”

Barbara laughed. “Love at first sight then?”

They looked at each other, nodding. “Yes, you could definitely say that.”

“Louis, how would you describe your experience coming out? Would you say it was easier than you thought it would be because of Harry?”

Louis nodded slowly, blindly grabbing for Harry’s hand. “Without a doubt, I could not have done it without Harry, but the road getting here was long and hard fought. I made a lot of mistakes along the way, I hurt a lot of people; I hurt myself. But there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. When you can love yourself, when you can be yourself, no matter when that day comes, it is a good one. Everyone deserves to be happy in their own skin, and to love who they want to love.”

“Beautifully said.”

Harry picked up his hand and kissed it, “Agreed.”

Barbara turned to him now. “Harry, I have a clip of your new song, it’s a bit different from what you’ve been doing. Can you touch on that?”

“Yeah, we actually recorded it a while ago. Lou is playing the piano on it. We felt like this was the right time to share it.”

“Well, let’s have a listen.”

 

'They don’t know about the things we do

They don’t know about the I love you’s

But I bet you if they only knew

They would just be jealous of us

They don’t know about the up all nights

They don’t know I’ve waited all my life

Just to find a love that feels this right

 

Baby they don’t know about us

They don’t know about us'

 

Barbara pressed her hands against her chest. “Wow.”

Harry looked at Louis and smiled. Louis slipped their fingers together, grinning back.

He turned back to Barbara with a shrug.

“And now you do.”

 

 

 

~The end~

 

"Love, let your music be mine  
Sing while I harmonize  
Let your melodies fly in my direction  
Take me to your paradise  
On a musical ride  
I'm in love with your music, baby  
You're music to my eyes"

**Author's Note:**

> Here are the songs used throughout, obviously we all know Louis didn't write Delicate, but it would be funny if he did! 
> 
> Delicate - Taylor Swift  
> Dive - Ed Sheeran  
> No Control - One Direction  
> Happily - One Direction  
> Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol  
> Beautiful - Bazzi  
> Olivia - One Direction  
> Medicine - Harry Styles  
> Strong - One Direction  
> They Don't Know About Us - One Direction


End file.
